


A Game of Murder

by Melinaa



Category: Layton Brothers: Mystery Room, Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series, Layton's Mystery Journey
Genre: Blood, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Inspired by Sherlock, Investigations, Murder, Violence, alternative universe, solving murders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21780310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melinaa/pseuds/Melinaa
Summary: Working at Scotland Yard has always been a dream for Lucy Baker, a dream that finally comes true. Yet the colourful image which she's had in her head for all the time is quickly destroyed when she meets her boss, Inspector Layton - highly intelligent, a prodigy of his generation, amazed by murder and downright rude and a nightmare to be around for more than five minutes.But Lucy has never been one to give up easily. Slowly but surely she removes the several layers that surround Inspector Layton - and reveals a lot more than just the fact that he can be rather nice and pleasant to be around. The clock starts ticking faster because a murderer is striking terror into the hearts of London's people. The murderer is playing a game, a dangerous game. And Lucy realises too late that she's just another token instead of a player...
Relationships: Alfendi Layton & Hershel Layton, Lucy Baker & Alfendi Layton, Lucy Baker & Florence Sich, Lucy Baker & Hilda Pertinax, Lucy Baker & Justin Lawson, Lucy Baker/Alfendi Layton, if you squint
Comments: 66
Kudos: 50





	1. A Game of Murder

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> I came up with a new fic! (surprise, why else would we be here?)  
> First of all, have you seen BBC's Sherlock? Then you'll notice rather quickly that this fic is heavily inspired by it. If you don't you'll notice just as quickly that I am a big fan of Sherlock Holmes. And that's the sole reason for why I wrote this fic. After I binge-watched Sherlock.  
> I have a few chapters so far and hope to update this fic more or less regularly. No promises though.  
> I hope you have some fun with the rather short prologue until I will upload the first real chapter - I thought a prologue was rather fitting here.  
> Be on the lookout for little clues - and you might end outplaying Inspector Layton ;) only if you're clever enough though. 
> 
> -Melinaa

Prologue

“Darling, wake up.”

It was a rather lovely voice he heard, the quiet chant making its way into his dreams without a problem. He smiled, turning his head towards it without opening his eyes. A woman in his bed? Hell, yes.

What wasn't so nice anymore was the cold water. He awoke with a start as it hit his face, gasping for air. All of a sudden, Alexander Wilkes remembered the situation he had been in just moments before the “dream” he had himself considered in. Struggling against the ropes that held his hands tied to the chair he was sitting on, he looked up, panic in his eyes. The man that had entered his flat violently and knocked him out earlier was going through his stuff. Alexander remained perfectly still, staring at the man, trying to breath as quietly as possible. He should take everything he wanted. Everything. Anything. As long as he let him live.

“Oh, look who's finally awake!”

Alexander jumped so violently that the chair moved a bit. It earned a giggle from the person who had just spoken. It was clearly the same who had woken him up.

The woman jumped down from the bookshelf she'd been sitting on, dropping the collection of Arthur Conan Doyle's works in the process to the floor carelessly. The sound echoed through the room, and made Alexander flinch. The other man looked up but went back to going through his things without as much as a glance.

“W-what do you w-want from m-me?” Alexander managed to rasp. The woman chuckled stroking a strand of her long hair behind an ear.

“Mh.” She bent down until their noses almost touched. Alexander froze when she ran a gloved hand over his cheek. “We? Oh, we just wanna play a bit. Well, _I_ want. _Alexander_.” She giggled, a high-pitched sound that must sound lovely under different circumstances.

“P-Play?” Alexander gasped, his voice dying when the woman stroked his cheek again. Panic flooded him and he struggled against the ropes again. “Who-Who are you?”

“Me?” She straightened herself and put a finger on her cheek as if she was thinking about it. “Hm, I cannot give you my real name, of course. That would be incredibly stupid. Which I am not. And it would take away some of the fun, don't you think? So...” Her gaze shifted through the room and got stuck on the book she'd just dropped. “I have always loved detective stories. My father used to read them to me.” She said while picking it up and turned it in her hands. “I think for today I... I'll be going by Irene. Miss Adler for you, of course.” She gave him a wink, dropping the book again. Miss Adler giggled when she saw Alexander flinch gain.

“Please don't get boring.” She bent down to him again. “Now. I still have a little score to settle with you. Your wife got into some trouble with my friend over here a little while ago.” She gestured at the man rummaging before she turned back to Alexander, a big grin on her face. “Let's play. Are you as excited as me? It's my favourite game. _A Game of Murder_.”


	2. Scotland Yard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah, that is very good. Now, Miss Baker, this is Inspector Alfendi Layton. Alfendi, this is Miss Baker, your new assistant.”
> 
> Lucy looked at the man so many people had already warned her before today. He looked nowhere near as horrifying as Lucy had imagine him, she wouldn't necessarily describe him as bad-looking but... maybe weird? “Hello, Inspector Layton. It's a honour to get to work with you,” Lucy said, still trying her best to talk Oxford English like she had been doing all day, and offered him her hand.
> 
> Inspector Layton looked her up and down before something truly strange happened which Lucy later wasn't sure if it had really happened. The colour of his hair seemed to suddenly shift into a shade of deep crimson as he dipped his head which made his hair fall unruly in front of his face. He ran a hand through it. His eyes were glowing with something Lucy couldn't describe. He made no move to remove his other hand from his pockets, and Lucy wondered what she had gotten herself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I hope you had a nice Christmas and arrived well in the New year, even decade!   
> Uploading this took me a lot longer than I intended to bc of uni and the holidays.   
> I have finished 5 more chapters so I will be able to upload some despite exam period basically almost already knocking on the door. No promises when I will upload the next one.   
> Anyway, I wish you a lot of fun with this chapter :) 
> 
> Melinaa

Chapter 1 

Scotland Yard

  
  


It was a cloudy Monday morning in London, just as usual. The sun wasn't to be seen anywhere but Lucy was happy enough that it wasn't raining for once and she would get to her new job dry. She had finished her career training a few years ago and had now finally been transferred to Scotland Yard. Since she'd been a little girl, it had been her dream to work as an police officer and when she'd gotten older she had set her mind to wanting to work at Scotland Yard one day. It had taken her a lot of hard work and dedication but she had never been one to give up easily. It took a lot for Lucy to quit.

As she stepped into the foyer of Scotland Yard she was so overly excited that she'd a hard time keeping her appearance calm when actually all she wanted to do was to dance and squeal with joy. Scotland Yard! Her dream was coming true! She felt a bit like a child on Boxing Day. A fond memory from long ago.

“Good morning, Miss. Can I help you?” Lucy turned her head towards the voices when they interrupted her inner squealing. Two policemen were smiling at her politely.

She cleared her throat straightening herself in the process. She was small, always had been, but she had never let that stand in her way. “The name's Lucy Baker. Commissioner Barton expects me at 10,” she replied trying her hardest to suppress her accent.

One of the officers nodded and offered her his hand which she swiftly took. “Ah, Miss Baker. The Commissioner told us about you when he arrived this morning. Welcome to the Yard, my name is Tom Evans. My colleague, Mr. Winter here, will bring you upstairs.”

Lucy shook his hand as well and they made their way upstairs. “For how long have you been working here?” she asked to keep a conversation going.

He smiled at her. “For three years, Miss Baker.”

She nodded. “Will we be working together?”

“No, we probably won't. I'm mostly out in the city patrolling. I don't like being surrounded by murder and these bad crimes all day. I always wonder how you guys can do it.”

Lucy shrugged. She didn't really know herself if she was honest. She liked patrolling the city, too, she'd do it any day, but she'd figured that she would learn a lot more more if she was a higher-ranking officer's assistant. Getting this job had been a truly lucky find.

“Do you know who I'll be assigned to? Which officer?”

Mr. Winter smiled at her somewhat... pitying? Not entirely happy at least. “Officer Layton. Let me tell you something: you're his fourth assistant this year and it's only May. No one lasted longer than a month so you might want to ask the Commissioner for another job around here. We would need someone on patrol, too. Anyway, here we are. Good luck, Miss Baker.” He nodded at her before he made his way back down to the foyer again, leaving Lucy somewhat stunned.

What the hell had that been? Was this Officer Layton so awful or had all his other assistant been so lousy? Lucy couldn't believe either. Yes, the job wasn't easy; lots of blood, murder and things no one wanted to even think about willingly, let alone surround themselves with constantly. But Lucy wasn't one to give up easily. This Officer Layton (if it was him she would be assigned to) would have to throw body parts of corpses after her for her to even consider quitting this job!

She took a deep breath before she straightened herself and knocked on the door. “Enter!” she heard a voice that _clearly_ wasn't Commissioner Barton's. Lucy backed away in confusion. Was it the wrong office? A quick glance at the door told her that she had, indeed, knocked on the wrong door. “ _Inspector Ercule Hastings_ ” was written on a little golden sign on it. She probably should have noticed this earlier. Lucy groaned. But not entering would be rude, so she opened the door with a smile and an apology ready on her lips. “Forgive me, I-”

“Ah, you must be Miss Baker!”

A man in a beige trench coat was sitting behind a desk facing her. His face had lit up and he quickly made his way towards her. “Forgive the inconvenience that Commissioner Barton couldn't see you personally. We'll be meeting up with 'im soon. I'm Inspector Hastings, welcome to the Yard.”

They shook hands, and she grinned. “Lucy Baker, but I'm sure you already knew that.”

Inspector Hastings laughed. “I like ya', Miss Baker. Please, sit. Would you like a cuppa tea? I just made myself some black tea.”

“Please, don't inconvenience yourself just because of me.”

“I'm not. So, I take it as a yes?” Without waiting for a further answers he got Lucy a cup of his tea. The smell filled the room immediately. He sat opposite of her again, and Lucy took the opportunity to eye him. She immediately liked him. He had something of the funny uncle one only saw at the annual Christmas dinners with the family.

“Now, I take it you're excited?” He winked at her, and Lucy chuckled.

“Yes, very. It has always been a dream of mine to work here one day.”

He nodded. “A very ambitious goal, Miss Baker. This job will demand a lot from you. It won't be easy. You'll have to face a lot and do what you are being told, even if you don't agree with the decision or don't like it. You're, of course, also encouraged to voice your opinion and ideas but when it counts you'll have to listen. You'll have to know when the time has come. Are you aware of this?”

Lucy gave a short nod. Commissioner Barton had asked her the exact same thing when she'd had her first job interview. “Yes, I am aware and I will do so.”

He smiled contently. “I'm glad to 'ear that. Commissioner Barton told me one or two things about you. Seemed fond of you and quite 'xcited about your arrival.” He took a sip from his tea, and Lucy automatically did the same. Hearing the praise made her smile brightly while she actually wanted to scream with joy. She did it more internally.

“Now, I'm sure you'd like to get to work immediately?”

She nodded and had to gather all of her strength not to jump up like an excited child. “Yes, very.”

“Great! I like a good working spirit. But there is one more thing Commissioner Barton wants me to tell you.”

Lucy rose an eyebrow as she wrapped her hands around her cup. “Yes?”

“I don't know 'ow much you know or what the Commissioner has told you, but you'll be assigned to work with Inspector Layton. Is there somethin' you already know about Inspector Layton?”

Lucy bit her lower lip. “On the way up here, Mr. Winter told me some things...”

Inspector Hastings nodded when she was hesitant to continue speaking. He straightened himself and looked her right in the eye. “Now, Miss Baker, I'm quite sure that most of what Mr. Winter said is, unfortunately, true. Inspector Layton isn't an easy man to work with. His previous assistants all quitted after not even a month of working with him. One didn't even show up again after his first day.”

Lucy nodded with a concerned frown. He made the words sound even worse.

“We are aware of this situation, 'course, but we cannot... well. Inspector Layton is highly intelligent and our best officer around here. There's no case 'e 'asn't been able to solve, so I can guarantee you that you will learn everything you can imagine and more from him. I know that is what you looked for. But you must get along with him.” He stuttered for a moment and cleared his throat to continue. “A few years ago there was an accident that caused a... a _permanent change_ within him. Normally 'e's a true gentleman like his father always tried to raise 'im. But then again... there is that side that is... not so much like a gentleman. And sadly, this side is in charge most of the time. 'e is capable of understanding the criminals in a way none of us can. This it what makes him so good but also so difficult.” He took a deep breath and tried a smile. “If you cannot work with 'im, it is no shame to tell us. We won't fire you but give you another job within the Yard.”

He smiled at her, and Lucy gulped. That... had been a lot of information. Information she would have liked to have earlier if she was honest. But she would have to work with it now and she would do it. There was no way she would back down.

“I know this was a lot. Hasn't told Commissioner Barton you anything before?”

Lucy had to shake her head. “No, he didn't. But I'm sure he had a lot on his mind lately...”

The Inspector nodded. “He has indeed with a risen quote of crimes all over the city... I'm incredibly sorry these information didn't reach you earlier. I 'ope it didn't scare you away but please, if it did tell me and-”

“No, it didn't,” Lucy interrupted Inspector Hastings. She knew it wasn't appropriate to interrupt her superior _but she wanted this job_. She wanted it. She would show Inspector Layton that she was indeed able to handle him. She would show them all. “No, it didn't. I want this job.”

Inspector Hastings nodded approvingly. “Then I would say I'll introduce you to Inspector Layton and your other colleagues. Let me check the clock...” He took a quick glance to the unusually loud ticking clock above the door. “The Commissioner should still be with Layton, so we'll start with your colleagues. They should all be in the kitchen havin' a little break by now. Only Ms Sich's down in forensics I guess...”

They made their way downwards through the foyer where Lucy saw Mr Winter and Mr. Evans again. They waved at her, and Lucy smiled while she was busy not losing Hastings. Her legs were a lot shorter than his.

“Is no one working 'ere, or what?!” Hastings barked once they had entered a room that Lucy would title as break room. A little kitchen was in one corner, a table was using up most of the room's space. No one flinched at Hastings's voice, they merely looked up from their cups and shortly interrupted their conversations for a greeting.

Hastings laughed as if this was something that wasn't too different from the usual. “Now, Miss Baker, let me introduce that lazy bunch to you!”

That got the attention of most of the people again.

“Oh, so you're the new detective?” a woman with blonde hair asked half-interested. She was eyeing her up and down, and Lucy couldn't do anything besides staring at her and describe her as absolutely breath-taking. Long, blond, thick hair, tall and a physique that made anyone drool. But at the same time Lucy felt rather intimidated by her.

The tall, muscular man besides her laughed.

“Hilda, you're scaring the poor lad!” He came towards Lucy and shook her hand. “I'm Justin. Detective Lawson around here but stick to Justin like everyone. Don't mind Hilda, she needs some time to warm up.”

“I don't!” With surprising ease she pushed Justin aside and took Lucy's hand. Her touch was cool and firm. “Hilda Pertinax. Nice to get to know you, Miss Baker.”

“Lucy is alright,” Lucy managed to reply. The chemistry of these two had managed to get her confused.

Hilda smiled. “Lucy it is then. Would you like some coffee?”

“Ah, I'm afraid the coffee has to wait. We still have some people to meet and to introduce her to Inspector Layton. So, Miss Baker, you already met Interpol Investigator Pertinax and Detective Lawson. These two fellows over there are Officer Hague and Officer Dartwright.” Inspector Hastings pointed at two men sitting at the table. They waved at her and while Officer Hague hastily straightened his glasses, Officer Dartwright got up to shake Lucy's hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Baker. Feel free to call me Blaine. It's nice to finally meet Alfendi's new assistant.” He smiled at her and Lucy felt a bit more at home at the Yard.

But she frowned. “Alfendi?” What an unusual name. She had never heard it anywhere before.

“Inspector Layton's given name,” he explained friendly.

“His father has a soft spot for unusual names, you're not the first to think so,” Justin assured her from the back of the room before he opened a door. Lucy hadn't noticed the balcony behind it until now.

“Finally quit smoking!” Hilda complained groaning before she turned towards Lucy with an encouraging smile. That's at least the way Lucy would describe it. “Good luck meeting Alfendi, Lucy. He's a handful but he can be as tame as a kitten if you know how to handle him.”

“Uhm... thank you,” Lucy answered, returning Hilda's smile before she left the room. These guys sure were a handful but she felt kinda comfortable between them.

Blaine nodded. “I don't want to keep you from meeting everyone here, Lucy, but indeed good luck with meeting Alfendi. Inspector Hastings.” He nodded before he left the room as well to enter one of the offices on this floor. Lucy had expected she and Inspector Hastings would do the same but instead they made their way down into the basement.

“We will meet Ms Sich here and Inspector Layton's office is here as well. It's called the “Mystery Room”. But he'll best explain to you himself why.”

Down in the basement, it was a lot quieter than upstairs. “To the left are the offices including Inspector Layton's. On the right, the forensics have their labs. Ms Sich!” he called upon entering a room.

Lucy looked around. The morgue looked like any Lucy had seen before, lots of sterile-looking white and tin, the smell of disinfectant being omnipresent. There luckily weren't any corpses out at the moment. Not that she couldn't look at them but it wasn't something she was to keen on seeing either. Besides them, the room seemed empty. Lucy already wanted to ask if they really were in the right room when a woman with an IV came around. It gave Lucy a mild shook.

“I was – Achoo! - sure I had heard something,” she said.

“Ms Sich, you did indeed. I'm showing Miss Baker, Inspector Layton's new assistant, around.”

Ms Sich blinked a few times eyeing Lucy up and down before she sighed. “Are you sure it wouldn't be better if he worked alone?” she asked before she sneezed again. Inspector Hastings merely scratched the back of his head and glanced at Lucy but didn't say anything. Ms Sich tried a smile anyway. “Anyway, welcome to – Achoo! - the Yard, Miss Baker. I'm Florence Sich, forensic doctor. I would shake your hand but I'm currently a bit sick.”

“I'm Lucy...” It didn't happen to often that Lucy was lost for words but right now, she had no idea what would be best to say so she stayed silent.

Florence nodded. “I guess I was the last before you'll meet Al... Inspector Layton? Good luck. Inspector Hastings, if you excuse me-”

“Ah, of course, Ms Sich.”

She walked back to where she had come from, and Lucy left the room behind the Inspector.

“Ms Sich is often sick. Chronic diseases. But she refuses to go home so we let her work under the condition that an ambulance is always close by. She's the best we have. You're lucky, Miss Baker. You got into a team of true specialists in their fields. They're a bit difficult, too, I must admit... now, are you ready to meet Inspector Layton?”

Lucy took a deep breath and nodded. Hastings knocked, and they entered the room when they heard Commissioner Barton's voice. “Ah, Inspector Hastings and Miss Baker! Forgive me I couldn't greet you myself, something got in the way.” He shook her hand and smiled brightly.

Lucy returned it. “Oh, it's quite alright, Commissioner. Inspector Hastings showed me around.”

“Ah, that is very good. Now, Miss Baker, this is Inspector Alfendi Layton. Alfendi, this is Miss Baker, your new assistant.”

Lucy looked at the man so many people had already warned her before today. He looked nowhere near as horrifying as Lucy had imagine him, she wouldn't necessarily describe him as bad-looking but... maybe weird? He was tall and skinny, his upper body was basically drowning in a red and blue stripped sweater over which he was wearing a white lab coat like Florence had, and a pair of red converse and black trousers finished the look. His hair was tied together at the base of his neck and a mixture between purple and red. A truly interesting colour. Not what Lucy would have expected. “Hello, Inspector Layton. It's a honour to get to work with you,” Lucy said, still trying her best to talk Oxford English like she had been doing all day, and offered him her hand.

Inspector Layton looked her up and down before something truly strange happened which Lucy later wasn't sure if it had really happened. The colour of his hair seemed to suddenly shift into a shade of deep crimson as he dipped his head which made his hair fall unruly in front of his face. He ran a hand through it. His eyes were glowing with something Lucy couldn't describe. He made no move to remove his other hand from his pockets so Lucy let her hand sink awkwardly and glanced to Inspector Hastings and Commissioner Barton. Had they noticed what she had noticed, too? Probably not as they were talking themselves. Lucy crossed her arms in front of her body because she didn't know where else to put them. She had expected Inspector Layton to say something but he kept his thoughts to himself instead just eyeing her. Maybe he wasn't much of a talker?

“Now Lucy, it's quite your lucky day. You two are called to a crime scene immediately! Not that the crime itself is something to look forward to, but it'll be good for your teamwork. The rest of the team will be there, too. Get going quickly. Alfendi, remember what I told you.” The commissioner shot him a strict look before he and Inspector Hastings left them. The door closed and Lucy looked over to Inspector Layton. He still wasn't talking but a smile was slowly forming on his face. He seemed to wait for something. Lucy couldn't put her finger on what it was until he suddenly started to jump around the room excitedly.

“Yes! Brilliant!” he exclaimed like a child on their birthday only that a child wouldn't use such a word as brilliant. He took his hands from his pockets and ran them through his already messy red hair. Maybe it had always been red and Lucy had imagined the purple tinge? “Ah, finally another murder! It's Christmas!” He laughed loudly and even carefree.

_What?! Christmas?!_ Lucy hoped she had misheard him. But before she could ask or do anything, Inspector Layton had thrown his lab coat over the back of his chair, grabbed a dark blue coat and rushed out of the office, leaving Lucy unsure and quite overwhelmed what she should do now. Her first impulse was to follow him but it didn't seem like he had even noticed her in his joy over the murder. Lucy shivered. Was that what the others had wanted to war her about?

_Okay, Lucy, calm down, maybe it was just a bad first impression and he's actually-_

“Now, Baker will you come? The victim might be dead, but we don't have all day!” she suddenly heard his harsh voice again. He was standing in the doorway, pulling a somewhat angry grimace. Lucy jumped.

“Sure! I'm right behind you, Inspector Layton!”

Again, she had to run to keep up with him. _Does everyone here have such long legs?!_ Lucy wondered. Outside the Yard she could spot Blaine, Hague and Justin next to a silver car, getting ready to get going,too. Blaine waved at her Lucy noticed but she was so busy keeping up with Inspector Layton to wave back. When he got into a black, expensive looking car Blaine gave her a thumbs-up which she answered with a smile. She was barely sitting, let alone had she fastened her seat belt when the Inspector started the motor and left the Yard's parking area at an alarming speed.

“Keep away from that Dartwright. Much talking, no doing. And Sniffer isn't better. Always sneaking around. You really need a better insight into humans.”

“Sniffer?” Lucy hold onto her seat tightly. She was prepared that she might get hurt or die from a gunshot but not from driving. Inspector Layton drove like a madman.

“Hague. Not worthy of calling him an officer.”

And he was rude. But if that was everything people had wanted to warn her about, she would be able to deal with it. She had no siblings but always known to defend her opinion and do her thing. He might be her boss but she would show him and the others that she was able to handle him.

The crime scene was already closed off and surrounded by police cars and officers when they arrived. Inspector Layton growled as he parked the car. “I hope they didn't mess up the crime scene...,” he muttered upon getting out of the car in one fluent movement. Lucy, again, hurried to follow him since he didn't wait for her.

“Inspector Layton, Scotland Yard,” he identified himself to be let through. But Lucy noticed that he was already standing behind the crime scene tape and she made the spontaneous decision that Inspector Layton didn't seem to like formalities and rules. She wanted to follow him but was being stopped.

“Wow, wait, Miss. I cannot let you through if you can't identify yourse-”

“She's with me, god damn! Think! Now let her through,” Inspector Layton barked and turned on his heels to strode towards the locked off house.

“Lucy!” she suddenly heard someone call her name before she could make her way to the crime scene. Blaine again. She was torn between following the Inspector and answering Blaine but in the end, her guilty conscience won and made her turn towards Blaine.

“Hey,” she greeted him. He handed her a pair of gloves used for crime scenes. “Thank you. But I really need to-”

“No,” Blaine interrupted her. “You don't want to go in there, not now.”

Lucy frowned. “Uhm, sorry? I can handle crime scenes very well, thank you. Besides, I'm Inspector Layton's assistant. I have to be there!”

Blaine suddenly grabbed her arm when she turned away from him. “Yes, you are, Lucy. But you don't want to be in there now, and Layton doesn't want you in there either. He's making his deductions, creating his theories. You would be the next victim if you followed him now.”

Lucy looked at the house and saw several forensics people come out. She probably wasn't the only one not wanted in there. “Okay, so... what do we do then?”

Blaine sighed. “We wait. I have to take pictures later. You'll either look at the crime scene with Inspector Layton after he is done in there or go back to the Yard. If you have to question people, promise me you will do it. Commissioner Barton is tired of endless complaints from people Alfendi questioned.”

_Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into?_

It didn't take Layton long to emerge from the house. His good mood (if one really wanted to call it like this. Lucy wasn't too sure even though she hadn't known the Inspector for too long) had vanished and he angrily threw his gloves at one of the forensics people. “My drug dealer?! Do you people have no eyes?! It's as clear as a diamond that this IS NOT one of his victims! Call me again for something as _boring_ as this, and I'll cut out your tongue!”

He stormed towards her. “Dartwright, do your work and stay away from my assistant! Baker, come.” Again, he didn't wait for a reaction, so Lucy shrugged, said goodbye to Blaine and hurried after Inspector Layton.

_If it is like this every day I'll have punched him in the face by the end of this week,_ Lucy thought. She had no problem with following orders but she indeed had a problem with rude people. But she decided to give him a chance. Maybe he had a bad day.

  
  


That was at least what Lucy hoped.

  
  



	3. The Mystery Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now, this is why they call us Mystery Room – we can solve any mystery right from this room. I wouldn't have to take a step out of my office if I didn't want. Which is quite nice because I'm more of a desk-person. Go, take a look inside.”  
> It left her rather disappointed. It was just a white room with a grey floor and nothing in it not even a spider's web. She wanted to ask, but Alfendi was already holding up an USB memory stick. “Let me show you.”  
> He entered he USB in the dedicated slot, entered a code and selected several documents that showed up on the display. Lucy could hear a silent beeping and working of the machine. She waited until a little high note echoed, and Alfendi nodded. “Done. Enter the room.”  
> Lucy did as he said. She had no idea what exactly she had expected but not to see a completely different room from the one she had seen just a minute ago. "Amazing," she thought. But every thought was wiped away when she saw a body lying at Alfendi's feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I'm terribly sorry for the delay again but exam period got a hold on me. It's almost over now, I only have a few papers to write and hope to manage to continue this story while doing so.  
> Please, forgive me the delay.  
> Also, you might be able to see a huge parallel to "Sherlock" in this chapter :D

Chapter 2 

The Mystery Room

  
  


The afternoon was better.

When they returned to Scotland Yard, Inspector Layton seemed to have calmed down a bit. Well, he wasn't talking at all, he seemed to be deep in thoughts instead. But Lucy guessed it was better than when he was insulting people or being annoyed. She could make out a low humming as they descended the stairs towards the basement of Scotland Yard; though it sounded more like he was muttering under his breath than it being an actual melody. She didn't really know what to make of it but she decided to take it as a good sign.

“Why is your office called 'Mystery Room'?” she asked when they made their way towards the office. Inspector Layton stopped in his tracks abruptly and looked at her in a way Lucy could only describe as completely and utterly surprised.

“You're still here?”

She almost stumbled over her own feet because of his words. “Of course I am. I am your assistant, this is my job!” Lucy answered, a bit louder and harsher than she had intended to but he had been rude all day. She placed her hand on her hips and stared him down... tried to at least as he was taller by at least a head.

“My last assistant quitted their job by that time. I'm not even sure if it was a woman or a man...” He shrugged. “Not that it would matter. They were atrocious. Would have served better as guinea pigs.”

“Well, I'm not one your last assistants. And definitely not a guinea pig!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. Oh, that had been quite rude, maybe she shouldn't have said that? He had insulted his last assistants as human guinea pigs! Well, it probably had been too impolite anyway as he was her boss. She wanted to apologise when a jolt went through Inspector Layton and he took a long stride towards her. But he stopped in his tracks again and took his head between his hands as if a headache had befallen him within the span of a second. He groaned and stumbled against a wall for support, his hands frantically grasping his hair.

“Oi, Inspect'r, are ya alright?” Lucy exclaimed hurrying to his side. She looked around if anyone was here to help but the basement was deadly silent.

Inspector Layton groaned again and threw his head to the side. His fingers were gripping his hair painfully hard (or so it looked to Lucy at least) and he breathed heavily. Lucy panicked. Was this normal? Did he need an ambulance? What was she to do? Was he sick? Her thoughts were stumbling upon each other but before she could finish a proper one to figure out what to do or even attempt to do something, his grip loosened, his breathing evened out and he straightened himself again. And while he did that Lucy was absolutely sure his hair colour changed again, this time from the intense crimson to the wine purple she had seen when she had entered the office with Inspector Hastings this morning.

“Yes, I am alright... ugh, forgive me if I scared you, Miss Baker. I sometimes get these sudden and intense episodes of migraine.” He rubbed his forehead and even smiled at her apologetically. Lucy was so taken aback by the entire situation that she just looked at him with an open mouth as he unlocked the door to the Mystery Room. “Come on in!” She hurried after him and quickly closed her mouth. But his hair _had_ changed but... _that was impossible_! Maybe it was the light in the room?

“Feel at home, Miss Baker. Would you like some tea?” He smiled while he took off his coat and waited for her answer.

“Uhm, that would be very nice, thank ya!”

He hummed, this time it was more of a melody than clear words, as he brought the kettle to a boil. He turned towards her and must have realized how lost she looked standing in the middle of the room. It wasn't like her at all but the sudden change in the Inspector's behaviour confused her immensely. He cleared his throat. “I'm sorry for the mess. It's my way of working. We can of course-”

“I don't mind. I'm quite chaotic myself,” she interrupted him. It was positively chaotic indeed. Both desks in the room were cluttered with papers, files and pencils. Empty mugs were dominating every available surface, whether or not they were free, and shelves were lining the walls. A lab coat was hanging over the back of one of the desk chairs. Lucy stepped over a pile of files and sat down on the couch on the other side of the room. It was surprisingly comfortable.She would like it here. The room had a cosy atmosphere to it that made Lucy wanna stay here even past working hours. The only thing that didn't seem to fit into the chaos was a painting of a small waterfall that had been placed between two floor-to-ceiling shelves which were stuffed with more files and stuff. It didn't seem to fit in yet Lucy found that was what made it fit in again. “It's nice here.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” Inspector Layton answered smiling as he came towards her. It suited him more than this mad smirk Lucy had seen all morning. She accepted the cup of tea gratefully. “Or would you have preferred coffee?”

“Naah, tea is fine! I'm not much of a coffee drinker. How 'bout you?”

“It changes from time to time,” he answered as he walked over to the desk opposite to the couch. He fidgeted with the fabric of the lab coat hanging over the chair before he sighed and sat down. “That's an interesting accent you have. I haven't heard it this morning. Yorkshire?”

She nodded. “Aye.” He didn't need to know that she'd suppressed it on purpose.

He nodded. “There's no need to suppress it. Just be yourself. Also, my name is Alfendi. Feel free to call me that.”

“Ho-” _How can he possibly know her reasons?! Could he read minds?_

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Good insight into human nature. You're easy to read but so are most people. To me at least,” he explained and placed his feet on the table.

“...alright. It's Lucy by tha' way.”

They continued to chat for a while to get to know each other and the more they talked the more Lucy was convinced that he had just had a bad morning. At one point he put down his cup and rubbed his temples. Was he getting an headache again? Should she do something? He groaned silently before he looked up, every trace of pain gone. He ran hand through his hair as he cleared his throat. “You must forgive me my behaviour this morning. I was quite stressed which is by no means an apology for the way I treated you.”

Even though Lucy had told herself exactly this more than once since she was here, she somehow didn't believe him. Inspector Hastings story about the accident and the permanent change occurred to her again but she was too hesitant to ask. What if he didn't want to talk about it? It was Day 1 of them working together, why should he tell her?

“It's alright, I suppose. Ta' though, I appreciate it.”

“It's still not a reason nor an apology to treat you this way.”

They didn't know what else to say to the matter so they stayed silent and finished their teas. Alfendi rubbed his hands together and smiled at her. Lucy meant so see a shadow of that mad smirk from earlier but she shadow had as quickly vanished as it had come. “Now, let's get back to work. You wanted to know why this is the Mystery Room, right? Or, the way Deputy Commissioner Chan calls it, the “back-office”. Quite an underrated name when one takes into consideration how much labour me and my “back-office” have saved him so far.”

Lucy followed him through the room to a door which she hadn't noticed before which was probably because a literal tower of files was piling up in front of it. An input field was next to the door. Lucy looked at him excitedly.

“Now, this is why they call us Mystery Room – we can solve any mystery right from this room. I wouldn't have to take a step out of my office if I didn't want. Which is quite nice because I'm more of a desk-person. Go, take a look inside.”

Lucy didn't even have the time to wonder about how excited he had been earlier when Commissioner Barton had sent them to the crime scene and how impatient to finally get into the house because her own excitement had caused her to immediately following his request but it left her rather disappointed. It was just a white room with a grey floor and nothing in it not even a spider's web. She wanted to ask, but Alfendi was already holding up an USB memory stick. “Blaine is usually the one to take photos of the crime scene. Photos, videos, analysis, everything you can imagine. He sends me everything, I put it on the USB and the machine here does the rest. Let me show you.”

He entered he USB in the dedicated slot, entered a code and selected several documents that showed up on the display. Lucy could hear a silent beeping and working of the machine. She waited until a little high note echoed, and Alfendi nodded. “Done. Enter the room.”

Lucy did as he said. She had no idea what exactly she had expected but not to see a completely different room from the one she had seen just a minute ago. The walls were lined with bookshelves, a desk was standing in front of a window. It was positively chaotic as if someone had forgotten to pack their luggage for vacation and was now throwing everything in it they thought they might need. Another thing that came to Lucy's mind was how incredibly inconvenient it was to sit at a desk with the window in the back. Wasn't the whole point of having one's desk in front of the window to use the daylight the best way possible? Lucy turned around to Alfendi, maybe to ask about the desk, maybe to express her amazement about this room, maybe to ask about why exactly he was creating another room in here. But every thought was wiped away when she saw a body lying at Alfendi's feet.

“Oh ma God!” she exclaimed, hurrying over to the person. But when she wanted to shake the man's shoulders, her hands grasped right through him and left her kneeling in front of her new boss gasping. She pulled back as fast as she could, looking at her hands in complete and utter confusion. She had no idea what was going on. “How-”

Alfendi offered her a hand which Lucy gladly accepted. A smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth as he helped her up. “It's all a hologram. I get detailed photographs and analyses of the crime scene and the machine re-creates it for me in here. Sometimes I have to do some rework but the machine is doing a fine job. I don't have to rely solemnly on photos this way but can return to the crime scene whenever I want.”

“Amazing,” was everything Lucy could manage to reply. She looked around the room again. A crime scene within Scotland Yard? “Absolutely amazing.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Alfendi tilted his head at her. He looked pleased. “Thank you. The room feels honoured,” he chuckled.

She grinned. “So, you do your investigation from here? Why did we then go to the actual crime scene today?”

He nodded stepping next to her. It made Lucy shiver when she saw how his foot just went right through the arm of the corpse. “Yes, mostly. I'm sure you have heard of the several deaths because of drugs lately?”

She nodded.

“We think there's something more behind it, that the people don't just take the drugs but that someone makes them. Everyone possesses a predisposition of the temptation to take drugs just like the probability to actually get addicted to them to the point of death. But none of these people have a history or connection within their family or their social environment in general. I could go on but these are the basics for now. What would you say, is that one of these victim?” He stepped back, gesturing to the corpse lying at their feet, a clear invitation.

Lucy stepped around it carefully, crouching down at some point to take a closer look. There was some blood beneath the body, mostly around the victim's face and upper body. What would she do to be able to turn him around. She looked at Alfendi. “Judging by the blood I'd say there's a wound at the front of the man's body or that he vomited blood. Vomit would bespeak drugs, a wound wouldn't. But we'd have to turn him around to say for sure.”

He nodded. “Wait a moment.” He left the room to enter something on the pad and a moment later, the body in front of Lucy was turned on its back. Now she could clearly see the hole in the man's pullover and the bloodstain around it. “Clearly shot. Probably from a close distance? And perfectly in the middle of his chest. Why did he keep so still? Had he been tied down or something?”

“Of course he was. Just look at the indents on his wrists, Baker!” he barked so suddenly that Lucy flinched back from the holographic corpse and landed on her bottom. He came barging into the room, his crimson red hair falling into his face and his amber eyes blazing with anger. “Tied down and shot right into the chest. This is the most boring murder I have ever seen. What's wrong with the criminals these days?”

For a moment, Lucy was so taken aback by the change of Alfendi's behaviour that she could not answer anything else besides, “Uhm...”

With two long strides he was standing right in front of her, his face a mask twisted with anger and derision. “Really? Come on, think!”

Lucy had the string urge to back away but instead forced herself to stand up and look him into the eye. She crossed her arms. “No reason to shout at me! I just need another minute.” What was going on? He'd been all nice just a second ago!

He rolled his eyes and groaned. “God, why are you all like this? It is OBVIOUS! Now look.” He crouched down and gestured towards the man's wrists. “The indents on his wrists; circular but irregularly. He was tied down and struggling; tied down with rope – there is filament of it remaining as you can clearly see – for at least five minutes but not more than ten judging by the depth of the marks and the amount of remaining filament. He was – as every man would do in his situation – struggling to get free which tell us the irregularity of the indents and the disposal of the bruises. The rope was taken off afterwards almost immediately otherwise the bruises would be more severe. There are no other bruises on his arms which tells us that he wasn't struggling against his captors, only against the ropes once he was tied up. Why wasn't he struggling before? Well, of course because he had been knocked out at first which you should have figured minutes ago by the absolutely obvious bloody hair at the back of his head.”

For a moment, Lucy tried to remember if she had seen blood but she truly couldn't. She could just look at Alfendi who watched her with raised eyebrows. “You really can't recall the wound? What kind of detective are you?!”

“I might have finished my training but apparently it is my first day here as your assistant and you're supposed to teach me, not shout at me!” Lucy retorted angrily, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She had answered to his exact question and she wouldn't take being snapped at all day.

Alfendi leaned back, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline. Lucy had to contain herself not to start giggle at the view. He just stared at her, blinking occasionally. He seemed like he was having an incredibly intense discussion inside of his head. Or maybe with himself. She told herself she would not lose this game of silence but a few seconds later, her curiosity gained the upper hand because even if the inspector was quite rude, his deduction skills were quite something. “Now? What else is to know about him?”

Alfendi blinked a few more times before he straightened himself. Whatever conversation he seemed to have led in his head, it must be over now as the arrogant and confident aura settled around him again. He grinned. “Shall I continue or would you like to give some more _profound insight_ , Detective Constable Baker?” he snickered as he rounded the holographic corpse.

Lucy gritted her teeth. He made her feel like she had already failed when she gestured at the corpse and lowered her head a bit. “Please. I... I don't see any more at the moment.” She bit her lip. Admitting mistakes was not a sign of weakness even though at this very moment it felt like it to Lucy. Admitting mistakes and reaching out for help was a possibility to learn something new. The Inspector just didn't make it easy.

Inspector Layton didn't need to be told twice, he set off to work immediately and with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “The entry wound isn't straight, it's slightly off which means the man was shot from an angle. As he was tied down at the time he was murdered the killer must be around 1.80 metres in height, maybe a bit taller but no smaller. A male killer probably. Balance of probabilities before you ask. The entry wound is clean, so was the shot, which means we're searching for someone skilled, not an amateur, their hands couldn't have shivered at all. Men are more likely to commit murders like this, women prefer different ways, so another clue that leads us towards a male killer. Ah, how I love the experienced ones.” He hummed contently before he shook his head. “Probably the only exciting thing about this murder. He was tied down otherwise the angle of the entry wound would be different. Where was he tied down?” He pointed towards the chair that was lying a few metres away. “This chair. It was dragged through the room, probably after the victim had been knocked out cold, then tied to-”

“How can you know that? They could have forced him to his knees,” Lucy interrupted him.

Alfendi took a hissing breath. “Unscathed knees of the victim, no dirt r dust on his jeans, different angle of entry and drag marks on the ground. It's his desk chair by the way since you don't seem to have noticed that it is missing.” He pointed through the room to where a desk was standing in front of the window. Its chair was truly missing. Lucy went through the replica of the victim's bedroom and crouched down next to the desk. The drag marks, which Alfendi had talked about, were there but barely visible. She traced them, expecting to feel an irregularity beneath her fingers which she, of course, couldn't. Had he really seen them from across the room? Or already earlier at the actual crime scene? But then Lucy reminded herself that Alfendi had been there for barely even two minutes. She wouldn't have noticed that in a century. Could he really be that good?

“Also, the bullet is still stuck in the back of the chair.”

She turned and looked at the chair that was now lying on the ground. Even from her position she could still see the bullet. Oopsie.

“From the fact that the bullet is stuck there it's obvious it definitely didn't go through a bone, otherwise it would stuck in the victim's body. He was shot, untied, and the chair thrown through the room when the corpse fell to the ground. Indents in the wall and the floor before you ask.” He pointed to the chair. Lucy hurried to get there and observe the ground and wall close by. Indeed, tiny indents were there. They reminded her of the time she had lost the fifth round of some game against her father when she had been really young and thrown the cubes aggressively through the room. The indent next to the light switch had reminded Lucy of the incident every day until she had moved out.

“In conclusion, the killers came, knocked out our victim, tied him to the chair and waited until he woke up. He struggled against the ropes until the gun was pointed at him. People tend to freeze in shock when this happens, as if it would make things any better.” Alfendi snorted as he looked around himself. “Something must have gone wrong, otherwise it doesn't make sense...”

“Killers?” Lucy questioned. The Inspector turned towards her, complete and utter surprise written all over his face. Why was that now? Had he forgotten she was still here or what?

“Yes. Killers. Two to be precise,” he answered.

“How in the world can you know that? There is no sign for that there were- why are you laughing at me?!”

He didn't stop. “Because, my dear Lucy, the signs are there. You're just too blind,” he smirked. “But don't get offended, almost everyone is.” He gave her a mocking wink before he started explaining, “The room had been searched through. One person alone wouldn't have taken this risk let alone have the time. Our victim couldn't have been unconscious for too long judging by the force of the punch and the angle. Blunt object he was hit with; 94,8% sure it's the book that's lying over there.” He pointed to a pile of books in front of a shelf. Lucy slowly made her way over there, her head still trying to process all the things Alfendi had just said. Her ears were clinging.

“Why this book?” she asked wondering if he had an answer for this as well. “Why not any other book?”

“It's obvious!” he burst out. Lucy flinched, and he took a deep breath as if to calm himself. “It sits wrongly,” he then explained composedly.

“It... sits... wrongly?”

He rolled his eyes, impatient. “It's clearly been pulled out and dropped to the floor before the rest of the books. It lies a bit apart from them and just look at the angle! Besides, it's a collection of Arthur Conan Doyle's works on Sherlock Holmes, a special edition; no sane person would leave that lying around so carelessly.”

“It sits at the wrong angle... alright,” she murmured, too quiet for him to get them. “But why did they do this? What were they searching for?”

“Nothing most probably,” Alfendi replied, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants. He looked rather bored once again. “An attempt to confuse us. Making it look like a murder with robbery to set us on the wrong track. It was always meant to be murder but something doesn't add up.”

Lucy could just star at him. Alfendi looked back calmly, the confusion that had been in his face earlier when they had actually been in the same situation was completely gone. Instead, a cold expression had settled on his face.

“Wow,” was everything Lucy managed to reply after several heartbeats had passed. Her voice was barely more than a breath as she was still quite overwhelmed with all the information she had just gotten and was most probably required to keep... however she should manage to do that. Aside from that, the Mystery Room was completely quiet. “That was... amazing.”

Alfendi's eyes which had rested on the pile of books snapped towards her. He frowned, his hair turning purple swiftly. She hadn't imagined that now! … Had she? “Sorry?”

“I said that was amazing. Your deductions,” she repeated her words looking around the room, forgetting about his hair. This, his mind, was far more interesting now. She would have never, not in a century or even a millennium managed to deduce all of this. It was incredible. How had he managed to become so good? He couldn't be a lot older than her!

Inspector Hastings clearly hadn't lied when he'd said she would get to work with the best.

“Really?” he asked, still with a whiff of arrogance in his voice. But Lucy could hear the insecurity beneath it.

“Absolutely brilliant. What else should it be?” Her eyes were gleaming with amazement, and she was finding her voice again. “How did you get all of this? You barely looked at the crime scene for five minutes! Can you teach me that?” She must sound like a little girl on Christmas but she didn't care. She wanted to become that good too.

“People watch. I see,” he murmured somewhat snarling but also friendly since the snarl wasn't directed at her. He shoved his hands even deeper in his pockets and looked at her somewhat... puzzled. Again. The corners of his mouth twitched. “You know that's not what people normally say.”

What do people normally say?”

He looked to the ground, his feet shifting, and didn't answer her, instead turned around and was by the door with only a few steps. His hair turned bright red in the progress, and Lucy already knew what was coming.“Come on. We have to do the paper work. That will be your job,” he snarled, humming to himself. Only that the tune now didn't have anything delighted to it anymore.

  
  



	4. Inspector Layton And His Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That, for some reason, did make Florence turn her entire attention towards Lucy. “No one told you about Alfendi's... brother?”   
> Lucy shook her head. That was the first time he heard of this. “He has a brother? I only know about a sister, Flora... and what does it have to do with the accident? Was it his brother's fault?” She frowned, imagines running through her mind, worse than the one before.   
> Florence hastily shook her head. “No, no, not a brother like that...” Her eyes darted to the door and back to Lucy, then to the body of Eloise. She cleared her throat and sighed. “He'll know anyway... fine. Look. A few years ago... it should soon be four – we were chasing a serial killer. You might have heard of him: The Jigsaw Puzzle Killer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone :) Here you've got a new chapter.   
> I hope all of you are doing fine with everything that is currently going on in the world. I wish for you all to stay healthy and well in these uncertain times. If you feel anxious, this is completely fine. It is, for most of us, a condition we have never experienced before. It is alright to be anxious. Talk to the people close to you. There is no need to panic. We will get out of this safe. If you don't have anyone to talk, feel free to reach out to me on my Tumblr. 
> 
> Best to all of you  
> Melina

Chapter 3

Inspector Layton And His Brother

  
  


Over the next few weeks, Lucy got to know about two things: Inspector hated paperwork and had incredible odd methods of working. And she wasn't talking about the Mystery Room in particular.

He would drag her into the mortuary just across the floor every day to teach her about the different stages of the process of putrefaction (some days he would drag her there several times). But not in a “Here, I show you”-way but in a “Look. What is different?... How can you seriously not see that?!” - kind of way. It was annoying to say the least. Lucy had a few more, far less friendly descriptions to be honest.

It was quite hard to keep up with Alfendi's changing but mostly rude behaviour, and most times Lucy would just snap right back at him because she simply couldn't stand it. She had been told that he was a difficult person to work with, not only by Inspector Hastings, and had been warned by all of her colleagues. By now she was seriously wondering if she would ever be able to create a comfortable working atmosphere with Alfendi. She wanted them to be a team, she really wanted it.

Lucy got along with all her other colleagues just fine. They usually spent their breaks together in the little common room where she had been introduced to them on her very first day. Alfendi barely ever took part in these breaks, he usually stayed back at the Mystery Room pondering over some files or an especially difficult case. Alfendi had pushed the “boring” case with the shot man far away and instead concentrated on the case with the drug dealer running around London murdering more and more people with his new drug. Last week, they had had a breakthrough and finally caught him. Their colleagues had even been a bit jealous.

“You're a lucky one,” Justin had said the day after as she had made herself a cup of coffee. Lucy had already been sitting at the table with her tea and sandwich and looked up with her mouth full when he had sat down opposite of Lucy. “Catching a drug dealer and serial killer in your first month, you're lucky. And you got another murder to solve beside that, too. That's more than most of us get to see the entire first year here.”

Lucy had gulped down her food and grinned at him but it felt more like a grimace. She could barely believe that she was keeping up with Alfendi's behaviour for already a month. Justin must have seen the doubt in her face as he'd kindly patted her arm as if to comfort her. “I know Alfendi is difficult. Believe me, we all both envy you for working with him and are glad that we aren't in your place at the same time. He really is the best around here, you know? Hilda would disagree just because she can but even she can't deny the truth for long. You'll learn a lot from Al. If you can get along with him.”

“Of course I can!” Lucy had immediately insisted, taking a huge bite from her sandwich. “He's just... he drives me up the wall sometimes! Not just the ones of the Mystery Room but the ones of... of The Shard!” she had eventually exclaimed with her mouth full. She didn't want to admit that she was seriously doubting if they would ever get along.

Justin had burst out laughing and almost spit all of his food right at Lucy. “I feel ya', Luce. But he's got a heart made of gold... or more a side. Remember that.” With that, Justin had gotten up and reached for his cigarettes. He had offered Lucy one but she had declined the offer politely, and when Justin had come back from smoking they had turned their conversation to a different topic.

  
  


Right now, as Alfendi had thrown yet another stack of paperwork at her with the snide remark of “Needs to be done” before he had left the Mystery Room to go God knew where, Lucy was remembering that talk. She growled at the literal mountain of papers as she pushed a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear. It was only just long enough not to fall back into her face again.

The second thing, the fact that Alfendi hated paperwork, was just as well known around the Yard as his incredible intellect and rude behaviour. Which led to Lucy doing all the paperwork. And if she didn't know it any better, it must be the paperwork from years judging by the amount she was doing.

Lucy continued to glare at the pile of paper as if it would shrink if she only did so for long enough. She knew that working as a police officer consisted of equal amounts of paperwork and legwork. She preferred the legwork yet didn't mind sitting at a desk either. It just came with the job. What didn't come with the job was being stuck behind a desk for an entire month doing the paperwork of two alone with a rude boss breathing down her neck and making snide comments whenever he got the chance.

And this ever changing hair of his! (Or more, his ever changing behaviour) Lucy had noticed that when she assumed his hair colour changed (she still wasn't entirely sure about that yet as it seemed so _impossible_ ), his personality seemed to change, too. It was quite strange. Some days she would come into the office to a perfectly decent and polite Alfendi. He would consult her when he made deductions, encourage her to try harder when she thought she had deduced everything (which basically _never_ was the case because he could see or rather deduce so much more). He would even help her with the paperwork and some days accompany her to the common room to have lunch or a cup of coffee with her and the others. They would chat casually and get along just fine. As it should be at work.

But most days, Lucy would barely even be greeted when she entered the Mystery Room in the morning. Alfendi would be standing in front of his wall that was slowly filling up with photos, reports and notes regarding the current case, and glare at it as if he couldn't figure something out. By now, Lucy knew that he was making up theories for what had happened, eliminating one by one till only one to which all clues fitted remained. He wouldn't talk for hours and in the beginning, Lucy hadn't even been sure if he had noticed her arriving at work. But he had, always did. Nothing escaped him.

Oh, and he would, of course, drag her over to the mortuary and try to teach her something. But this rude Alfendi, as Lucy called him, was an atrocious teacher. The other one, the decent Alfendi, was a bit better but clearly not used to teaching either.

Today was Thursday. The rude Alfendi had been ruling over the Mystery Room (oh, what was she saying, the entire Yard) for the past week, and Lucy was fed up with it. So, she simply stood up to leave the office when he came back smelling of cold smoke. Oh, something else she had noticed: the rude Alfendi liked to smoke while the decent Alfendi would merely grimace at the cigarette package before he would throw them in a drawer of his desk.

“Baker! Where do you think you are going?” he barked when she squeezed past him. He could do his bloody paperwork himself for once.

“Mortuary. I need to ask Florence something.”

“And what would that be?” she could still hear him call out but she was already at the mortuary's door and had no intention of returning. Early in her first week, Florence had come to the Mystery Room when Alfendi had gone out to smoke and offered Lucy to use her “office” as a retreat whenever she needed a break from Alfendi.

Lucy had to confess that she had taken her up on that offer more often than she would have liked to admit. She wasn't one to give up easily but sometimes, it was just becoming too much. But she wouldn't give up. No way! This was her dream job and not even an Alfendi Layton would manage to get rid of her. She was prepared to push through. But the doubt kept nagging in the back of her mind.

The door opened with a barely audible sound and then the scent of disinfectant and some quiet music were welcoming Lucy. Florence liked to listen to the radio while she was examining the corpses and hum along the songs. Lucy had noticed it during the past few weeks. She liked it. It made Florence seem a bit happier because a little smile made its way onto her face every time.

“He -Achoo!- llo Lucy,” she heard Florence sneeze and grinned when she laid her eyes on the other woman. Florence seemed a bit better today than other days, standing a bit straighter, hair a bit shinier, skin a bit rosier.

“Ay Florence. I hope ya don't mind me dropping by.” During the past weeks she had also given up on trying to speak Oxford English. It was exhausting and frankly, no one did care either. Lucy had quickly picked up on the atmosphere here. Most of her colleagues were more like friends than just just colleagues and they had included Lucy rather quickly. The only thing that kept bothering her was that she could not quite put her finger on where Alfendi fitted in.

“Not at all,” Florence answered. “If you don't mind me examining a body. Blaine usually runs away as soon as – Achoo! - I start to work. I wonder how he manages the crime scenes.”

“I don't mind either,” Lucy replied following Florence to the table with a body on. It might sound strange but Lucy found what Florence was doing incredibly interesting. Not the deaths itself, God no. It was horrible that all these people had had to die. But the way Florence could read a body the way others read a book was truly fascinating. It was like watching Alfendi making his brilliant deductions (or rather listening to him) but also different.

She really was a lucky girl, working with all these extremely skilled people and being allowed to learn from them.

Last week, they had taken a last look at the shot victim from Lucy's first day before they had released the body for burial. His name was Alexander Wilkes. Which she most probably wouldn't know yet if Florence hadn't told her as Alfendi didn't take names seriously. _“A name won't make me find the murderer any quicker_ ”, he had said. “ _And anything that isn't important for my work, I don't keep in mind.”_

“The last drug murder,” Florence explained when Lucy looked at the body. It was covered from the collarbones down, its eyes closed. One could almost imagine that the woman in front of her was only sleeping. But there was no pulse anymore, no warmth; she was dead.

Terrifying, how something as cruel as death could look as peaceful as sleep.

“Eloise Graven, 21 years old. It's rather – Achoo! - sad.”

She was barely younger than Lucy herself. Two huge and ugly sutures were spanning Eloise's skin, both starting at her collarbones, going downwards in a V to the middle of her chest where Lucy knew they would meet and continue as one large suture along her entire body from where Florence had cut her open only a few day ago. Alfendi had dragged Lucy in to take a good look, and Lucy who normally wasn't squeamish (it came with the job, the hardening up) had had to turn around and take a few deep breaths so she wouldn't actually throw up in the middle of Florence's lab.

Lucy had seen plenty of cut open bodies but never one that had looked so demolished. It was a true wonder what a drug could do to one, but not in a positive way.

When Lucy had looked at Alfendi, his eyes had gleamed in that strange way she had already seen before. It had made a shiver run down her spine.

“Yes, it is. She was barely older than us,” Lucy agreed. She had learned to keep distance but it still made her insides sting whenever she saw another dead body. Did the world really have to be this cruel?

“I think she's quite a bit younger than me,” Florence commented before she started doing whatever she had to, and Lucy watched with her arms crossed. The music from the radio quietly echoed through the room. She always enjoyed it, the calm atmosphere and the occasional chatter with Florence. She would have to return to the Mystery Room and its rude habitant soon enough.

“So, what brings you here today, Lucy? Surely not the view,” Florence commented scribbling something onto a piece of paper on her clipboard before she bent over the corpse again. “I assume it's about Al?”

Lucy sighed. “Yes. The usual. You know it.” It was truly funny. She was here for barely a month and already speaking about “the usual”.

“Yes, I do.” Florence quickly turned away from the body to sneeze.

“Bless you,” Lucy murmured without taking her eyes from Eloise. She wondered what this young woman with her entire life ahead of her had made her take the drugs. Lucy was glad they had caught the drug dealer at last. No more deaths. That was at least what they hoped, that he hadn't distributed his drugs any further. They didn't know yet as they were still interrogating him, and he refused to say anything.

“Thanks,” Florence snuffled. “Don't give up now. You're doing fine, a lot better than the last... few assistants,” she noted carefully glancing up at Lucy.

“I heard so. Didn't know that when I signed up for the job but I rather like it here. I don't want to quit.”

That, for some reason, did make Florence turn her entire attention towards Lucy. “You didn't know about Alfendi when you signed up? No one told you?!”

Florence's sudden outburst took Lucy by surprise. She'd never heard her raise her voice but she seized her chance to finally ask someone about Alfendi. “Uhm... no. Inspector Hastings told me about Alfendi's accident on my first day but didn't elaborate further. I didn't dare to ask him or anyone else but... what was the accident actually?”

“Oh my...” Florence put away her documents before she turned back to Lucy supporting herself on her rand right next to the corpse between them. “No one told you about Alfendi's... brother?”

Lucy shook her head. That was the first time he heard of this. “He has a brother? I only know about a sister, Flora... and what does it have to do with the accident? Was it his brother's fault?” She frowned, imagines running through her mind, worse than the one before.

Florence hastily shook her head. “No, no, not a brother like that...” Her eyes darted to the door and back to Lucy, then to the body of Eloise. She cleared her throat and sighed. “He'll know anyway... fine. Look. A few years ago... it should soon be four – we were chasing a serial killer. You might have heard of him: The Jigsaw Puzzle Killer.”

Lucy nodded. She had still been in her training back then but everyone had talked about these murders. “He was never caught, right? He just... stopped murdering one day.”

Florence nodded. “Indeed. But we almost had him. He had left a note for Alfendi at his last crime scene. ' _Time to puzzle_ ' it had said, and a little castle had been drawn onto it. None of us had known at that time as Alfendi had kept it to himself. Already back then he had been quite the show-off. I mean he is good, yes. But – Achoo!”

“Bless you.”

“Thanks. Anyway. Forbodium Castle was were the killer wanted him to go. He went there with none of us knowing about it. He had stormed out of the Yard without a word. Thanks to Hilda they were able to track him down eventually but he had quite the lead. When they finally arrived there – you know, the Commissioner, Justin, Hilda and so on – it was already too late. Do you happen to have been to Forbodium Castle?”

Lucy shook her head. “I only have second-hand knowledge of it. Quite big and mysterious; people say it's haunted.”

Florence sniffed and chuckled. “It's not haunted. But yes, big and mysterious sums it up pretty well. They arrived with countless officers but it had taken ages to search through the entire castle nevertheless.” Any trace of amusement was now wiped away from her face. “It was raining and thundering heavily, no one could really see where they were going. Hilda and Justin were the ones to find Al at the top of one of the castle's towers, lying in a puddle of his own blood, a gun still in his hand, alone. If there had ever been a clue that could have been followed, it had been washed away by the rain. We were devastated, we had thought Al might have... he might have tried to kill himself because he couldn't catch the Jigsaw Puzzle Killer.” Florence had to stop here. Lucy thought it was because of an uprising sneeze but when she looked closer, Florence was trying to blink away the tears.

“You must understand, trying to find the Jigsaw Puzzle Killer was his goal. It had been his goal for so long that it had become an obsession. With the case, the killer himself... and... we always thought... even _feared_ he might go this far if he failed. The ambulance brought him to the hospital. You... you should have seen Hilda. Devastated wouldn't even have come close to it. They... they could tell he hadn't tried to... commit suicide by the angle of the bullet wound's entry. But when he woke up... he wasn't the Al we knew. Not anymore.” That was the moment, Florence finally looked at Lucy again. “You surely have noticed the changing hair colours? Beside his mood swings?”

“Yes!” Lucy would have blurted out, relieved that she wasn't crazy, if she still had words left. But Lucy was out of words. She had never experienced anything like it. And while she usually could empathize with people extremely well, she couldn't do it right now; or rather she didn't dare. She was sure she wouldn't get it right. So, all she could do was to nod and continue to listen to Florence.

“Dissociative Identity Disorder; he developed a second character to live within him. It was stronger than his original self. He didn't even seem to remember his original self when he woke up after being in coma for three months. He was still as intelligent and easily bored as ever but...” Florence looked at Eloise between them. Lucy blinked surprised as she noticed it. She had completely forgotten the corpse.

“But he just wasn't the Alfendi you knew anymore?” Lucy concluded for her. Florence nodded; she had always seemed a bit uninterested in what was going on around her but Lucy had assumed it came with the job; that it was easier to cut up corpses if you didn't care. Now, she could see that Florence actually cared a lot. She felt bad for the prejudice she had hold but she didn't know if she should apologise right now or not.

“Yes,” Florence answered before she quickly cleared her throat. “But that was a long time ago. He's started to show up again more and more lately scaring away his assistants and enjoying crime scenes. You know it best I assume. The old Al has actually been around a surprisingly lot since you're around.”

Lucy nodded but she was far away as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned against the table. She was thinking, and Florence let her. Lucy heard her move away. Her mind was racing. On the one hand, she was glad that she obviously wasn't crazy; for some odd reason Alfendi's hair colour changed whenever his personality did. On the other hand, _his personality changed_. And no one had found it important enough to actually tell her.

Lucy, normally a good-natured and peaceful young woman, noticed the anger boiling within her. She didn't blame Alfendi for it; while she had the right to know it, it was still something that affected him and only him and he should tell her when he was comfortable with it. It was like Lucy who didn't go around telling people about her childhood whom she didn't trust or even know. But she was angry that neither Inspector Hastings nor Commissioner Barton had believed it to be crucial for her to know. It was quite a heavy piece of information.

“Lucy.” She suddenly heard Florence's voice again, full of concern. It made Lucy spin around, almost knocking the corpse from the table. She quickly took a step back.

“Al isn't dangerous or anything. He is a bit like a dog; all bark and no bite. You're safe but... be a bit careful when his... “bad” side is ruling. Okay?”

Lucy frowned. That didn't exactly sound like “not dangerous”, more like... well, pretty dangerous. Lucy opened her mouth but her answer was cut off when the door opened and Alfendi rushed in. His hair was a vivid shade of red and his eyes sparkling as he practically dashed towards Lucy, his lab coat floating like a cape behind him. A huge smirk was spread all over his face as he grabbed her forearms. “There has been another murder, Lucy! It is Christmas!” he cheered. Saying that Lucy was shocked was not even coming close to how shocked exactly she was about his behaviour once again.

His eyes darted from her frozen figure to Florence, and when he looked back at her, his eyes had darkened along with his features. But the grin was still omnipresent which didn't exactly make the rapid change any better. Rather worse. Especially considering how close he was to her. Lucy tried her best not to let her discomfort shine through. _Don't back down_ , she told herself. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

“Come on! We've got work to do! I hope it's not as dull as the last one... Dartwright already sent the data.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. She didn't catch the expression of Florence's face anymore as she shouted a farewell but she assumed it said something like “take care”.

As Lucy stumbled after him, she could feel a strange sensation within her stomach.

Anger, on the one hand.

Excitement on the other.

She wasn't exactly sure how well these two feelings mixed; and even less sure what to think about it.


	5. The Bloody Smirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy looked over to Alfendi, her eyes wide with shock. She had seen bloody crime scenes before but never anything like this.  
> She had to turn away and take some deep breath to stop herself from throwing up right here right now.  
> It was because of the smile.  
> But not the woman's.  
> It was because of the shining eyes and beaming smile of Inspector Layton right next to her when his eyes landed on the woman's face that Lucy felt like she was about to throw up or pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!   
> I hope you all are doing fine. I wish you and your loved ones a lot of health and happiness in these hard times. If you want to talk to someone, feel free to message me on my Tumblr.   
> I hope you will like this chapter. It's a bit bloody, so you might proceed with caution. 
> 
> I wish you all the best   
> Melinaa

Chapter 4

The Bloody Smirk

“I assume you had fun prying into my past?” Alfendi murmured as he was bent over the laptop on his desk and inserted a USB drive into one of the fitting ports. While his tone was light, his voice itself was low like a deliberate growl coming from deep within him. His fingers, in contrast, were moving frantically, excitedly over the keys. She should have known that Alfendi knew what she and Florence had been talking about the second he walked in. Nothing seemed to escape him. That was what made him such a great detective after all. Lucy admired that. Usually.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her mouth felt dry. “Yes,” she managed to say but it was more of a rasping sound than anything else, really. She was usually so confident and optimistic, what was going on? She shook her head and took a deep breath. Must be Florence's warning that was still stuck in her head. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

He looked up at her frowning. “Why are you afraid?”

“I'm not!” Lucy retorted fiercely and stopped herself from taking a step back when the corners of his mouth started turning upwards.

“You are. Sleeves covering your hands, an attempt of hiding. Crossed arms, shifting back and forth, clear signs of fear. That, or you're extremely uncomfortable. I take it's fear although that goes hand in hand with discomfort.” Lucy could see the huge smirk playing on his face. “Florence warned you.”

“She didn't!”

“So she did.” And with that, the smirk vanished from his face. His eyes shifted downwards to the screen of the laptop when suddenly, a hand shot towards his forehead, grabbing it violently. “Shut up,” he hissed.

“I wasn't saying anything,” Lucy replied confused.

“Not you!... God, is it always about you?!”

“...’m sorry?”

But he wasn't listening anymore. While it would make a lot of sense Lucy wasn't too sure if the last sentence had been directed at her. Judging by the expression on his face, it had been directed at himself... or more the other self in his head. Now that she knew about that, she was starting to overthink the things he had said; some of them made a lot more sense now. If everything Florence had said was true. She lifted her chin. “I'm not afraid. Why should I?”

With that the grimace was gone, and the smirk was back on his face as he lowered his hand. “You tell me,” he replied and that was that because the laptop made a ringing sound which alerted both of them. “Ah, finally!” he exclaimed ecstatically basically tearing out the USB drive, and made his way to the Mystery Room to set up the crime scene. Lucy followed him inside once he was done.

She didn't know what she had expected. Maybe something like last time, someone who had been shot. Maybe a drug victim. Someone being stabbed or strangled or...

She really didn't know.

Lucy only knew that she hadn't expected _this_. This... _blood bath_.

The victim, a young woman, was lying in what Lucy thought to be her living room. Most of it had previously been white, she assumed, but now almost the entire room was covered in blood. The walls, the floor, the furniture; a huge bloodstain was covering the better part of the couch as if the victim had been sitting or lying there for some time bleeding, or worse; the traces on the floor were smeared as if someone had dragged the poor woman with them, some looked like she had been lying on the floor and been carelessly hauled around, occasional splatters all over the room that each told their own story. The woman herself was lying on the previously creamy white carpet, covered in countless cuts, some absolutely tiny like they had been caused by a needle, some so huge that Lucy didn't even want to imagine the knife that had been used. The killer had spared no patch of skin, not even the face. Ignoring the nauseous feeling inside her stomach as she approached the woman Lucy bent down a bit to get a better look. She was glad for the lack of the metallic smell in which the flat must have been drowning.

She didn't have to wait for a different projected version of the corpse, she could very well see what the killer had done; they had literally carved a huge smile into the woman's face as her hair was tied back into a messy ponytail. Lucy was sure her hair blonde hair had been styled neatly before her killer had appeared.

The smile started at the corners of her mouth, which were twisted in pain, and almost went up to her ears. She had died in pain. Pain and panic, horror even, that were the emotion her eyes were displaying although the dead usually looked peaceful. She must have been glad when it was over. Lucy couldn't imagine what the woman must have felt like. She looked over to Alfendi, her eyes wide with shock. She had seen bloody crime scenes before but never anything like this.

She had to turn away and take some deep breath to stop herself from throwing up right here right now.

It was because of the smile.

But not the woman's.

It was because of the shining eyes and beaming smile of Inspector Layton right next to her when his eyes landed on the woman's face that Lucy felt like she was about to throw up or pass out.

His mouth was slightly ajar, the corners turning upwards as he slowly looked the woman up and down. Slowly, very slowly a smirk was growing on his face as he carefully stepped around the room, taking everything in. His eyes didn't miss a detail. If Lucy hadn't felt so aghast she would have been amazed by his deductive skills yet again.

When he started laughing, she was ripped back into reality. “What a great show!” the Inspector cackled. “What a pleasant surprise! Now, this is what I consider a _nice_ crime scene!” When he turned towards her, the gleaming in his eyes made her stomach turn. She crossed her arms and wished she hadn't had breakfast this morning. Her breathing grew shallow.

According to how she felt, her face must be as white as a wall, but Inspector Layton didn't seem to notice. He grimaced slightly as he looked at her, but the joyful grin returned faster than she had wanted. “Now Lucy, what can you tell me?” he questioned her eagerly, gesturing at the victim. He put his palms together like he wanted to pray but Lucy knew that this was most probably what was farthest from his mind right now. He run his apposed forefingers along his lower lip, along his chin slowly before they stopped beneath his face, the tips of his fingers barely touching his chin as he watched her expectantly. A shiver run down Lucy’s spine, her eyes fixed on Inspector Layton’s lips.

Lucy found that she was unable to answer. She couldn't avert her eyes. She couldn't look away from this madly smirking man, standing there in his suit and the lab coat and his messy red hair amid the bloodiest crime scene, Lucy had ever laid her eyes on, like it was his empire. His voice was dulled when he spoke like there was cotton on her ears. She blinked but couldn’t get her sight straight. Everything seemed… off.

“Nothing?” He glanced around. The question how someone could react to such a crime scene like Inspector Layton bounced around her hear and caused her a headache she'd never felt before. His lips moved but she couldn’t make sense of the words.

She couldn't even shake her head; she was sure it would explode otherwise. Either that or it would shatter like a glass crashing to the ground. She felt weak; hell, she was a bloody officer, she should be able to deal with this! It was that thought that made her snap back to reality. Colours exploded before her eyes, sudden sounds, too loud, tortured her ears. She was hyper aware of the Inspector who reminded her of one of the avenging angels she had always been warned about since childhood. Her heartbeat accelerated.

“How disappointing,” he murmured. “It's such a nice crime scene.” He took a deep breath while Lucy was only breathing shallowly.

And in the very moment Inspector Layton opened his mouth and started his monologue Lucy knew why Blaine had advised her to stay away from the crime scene while Alfendi was there.

When he started talking about his theories, going on and on about how the young woman had been tortured and dragged around the room before she finally, finally had been _allowed_ to die after hours and hours of pain and fear and panic, Lucy had to turn away and leave the Mystery Room. She stuck to what she was saying about herself: she wasn't squeamish, had never been.

But she was not sadistically inclined either. She could handle a bloody crime scene very well, but she couldn't handle someone like Alfendi. Someone who... _enjoyed_ crime scenes. Truly _enjoyed_ them like other people enjoyed a movie in cinema or a night out with friends.

Her head was spinning violently. Inspector Layton hadn't even noticed that she had left.

Later, Lucy couldn’t recall how she'd managed to get out of the office. The next thing she knew was that she was standing in the mortuary where Hilda and Florence were talking over the now completely cleaned corpse that Lucy had seen blood-covered just moments ago. Her vision went white.

“Hey, Lucy, what brings you here? Everything fine?” she heard Florence ask from far away. She was still looking at the corpse but started spinning before Lucy’s eyes. It wasn’t until Hilda turned around and gasped violently that she realised that Florence wasn’t spinning. Was it even Hilda’s gasp? Could have been her own just as well.

“Oh bother, Lucy!”

Her feet gave in, but someone caught her just in time.

“Lucy!” Lucy blinked a few times when she heard a strident voice. Her eyes focused. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Lucy wouldn’t have thought angels had such an uncomfortable voice.

“Shit, what’s wrong?”

“A chair!”

“No – Achoo! – on the ground with her so she can’t fall down. And some water.”

The next thing Lucy really grasped was the ice-cold glass of water and the firm “Drink up, Lucy. It’s okay.”

While she drunk, reality slowly came back to her for her to process. The bloody smirk. The now cleaned corpse, the corpse covered in blood. Blonde hair stained with blood. An angel’s eyes, the devil’s smirk. Herself fainting- What was real, what wasn’t?

Hilda’s and Florence’s hushed voices reached her ears. “I’m going to murder him! That’s the third assistant we have over here, and I thought so much of her.”

“'m fine!” Lucy managed to blurt out, putting the almost empty glass to the ground with a lot more force than necessary. Some water splashed onto the floor. She felt the blood rising in her cheeks when Florence and Hilda rushed over and mustered her worriedly. “I'm sorry. I didn't want to disturb you.” Her eyes were glued on the corpse. The smile carved into the woman's face wasn't bloody anymore. She felt ridiculous and missed her optimism. When had been the last time she had looked forward to going to work? She felt like the biggest loser in history, especially seeing all these amazingly skilled people around her seemingly getting along without any problems while she was thrown off track by almost everything Inspector Layton said to her or did. She had never been a quitter; but right now, she felt a lot like just jacking it all in and never look back, forget everything. And it worried her immensely since it was not her at all.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Hilda assured her. Florence nodded along and Hilda placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Bad crime scene?” she asked.

“Don’t be shy,” Florence cut in. “You’re not the first. He even managed to scare Hilda from a crime scene.”

“Florence!”

“Wha’?” The woman grinned.

Lucy managed a weak smile. “Yes, but that wasn't it, I... I'm fine. It was just... nothing. Really. I should just check if the corpse had already arrived here,” she hurried to explain and tried standing up but Hilda’s hand on her shoulder kept her on the ground. Lucy tried a smile to assure the two women that she was fine but felt more like a grimace than anything else.

Hilda and Florence looked right through it. Lucy had always been a terrible liar. “Was it Alfendi?”

Lucy averted her gaze and instead focused on the glass between her hands. She couldn't find the words. How could she admit she couldn't even handle a bloody crime scene without sounding like a complete and utter loser? It came with the job, and everyone here knew it. And she _could_ usually handle it. But this... his expression...

Hilda shook her head. “I know him. He's horrible when he gets to a crime scene like this, always was. I’ve been there with him and… Florence is right, he managed to scare me away. I looked even worse than you. The bloodier and crueller the murder the better. And it's hard to work with him and his odd characteristics,” she growled. “Am I right?”

Lucy could muster a shallow nod, embarrassment causing her face to flush even more. She was such a loser. She looked up at another gentle squeeze of Hilda's hand on her shoulder.

She sent her a reassuring smile. “That is nothing to feel bad or ashamed about, Lucy. We all know that Alfendi is difficult.” She looked over to Florence as if for confirmation. Florence nodded. “This, of course, doesn't excuse his rude behaviour towards you or anyone else. He needs someone to run rings round him, someone who talks back. You surely have noticed that he gets... he calls it “bored”, rather quickly, haven't you?”

“Ay. That's when we starts making up murders 'n stuff,” Lucy murmured dropping her head again.

“Exactly. He needs someone who challenges him. All the previous assistants were way too afraid to do that,” Florence chimed in.

“Don't be afraid to do that. Don't tell him I said that but Alfendi is a bit like a dog, a particularly naughty one. All bark and no bite. Sometimes, he simply needs to be put on a leash.” Hilda gave her a wink. “And I'm sure you can do that, Lucy. It would be a shame if we had to say goodbye already. I like having you around the Yard, so do Justin and the rest of us. You're still Detective Constable Lucy Baker.”

“A leash. We – Achoo! – should gift him one for Christmas,” Florence snorted.

Lucy managed a little chuckle. She was already feeling a bit better. “Ta, Hilda, Flo. But I don't think Alfendi is keen on having me around. He didn't even notice I left.”

The women shook their heads, grins dancing on their lips. “Oh, I wouldn't be so sure,” Florence answered with a wink. All three of them looked up when the automatic door opened. Alfendi strode in, looking positively pissed. Lucy could barely keep herself from flinching. Why were Hilda and Florence so delighted?

“Alfendi!” Hilda cut him short right away. She got up swiftly and strode over to him. “Interesting case, I take it? I expect a fully detailed report of this crime on my desk by seven tonight. _Written by you_ ,” she snarled in a way actually only Alfendi could. He didn't look offended. More annoyed, but ready to bark back. Lucy watched how Hilda crossed her arms once they were almost nose to nose and glared at each other furiously as if they waited for the other to back down, not saying a single word though.

“Don't you even think of it,” Hilda hissed threateningly as if she had read Alfendi's mind, breaking the silence so effectively that it made a violent shiver run down Lucy's spine. The gazes of the detectives turned towards her as if they had noticed, and she quickly looked back down at the glass between her hands. She must be an open book to them.

“And your assistant is _obviously_ not feeling well, so do something about it. That’s _your_ job, not ours. You're a horrible boss and mentor.” With that, Hilda disappeared, although not without a last “Don't forget about the report!” which brooked no dissent. Alfendi's gaze followed her as if he was contemplating whether to abandon the discussion or continue it.

“Fine,” Alfendi suddenly hissed, pulling his clenched fists out of the pockets of his coat. “Now, shut up.”

“Huh?” Lucy frowned. “We weren't saying anything.”

“I wasn't talking to you,” he merely replied. Lucy quickly got up and joined his side when he stepped at the metal table the corpse was lying on. She was Detective Constable Lucy Baker. A little breakdown didn’t define her, everyone had them. She could do this. She would prove to everyone that she could, over all to herself.

Florence stood on the opposite side of the table, eyes on the Alfendi while he inspected the corpse. “Not so pretty anymore without all the blood,” Alfendi muttered sadly before his gaze turned towards Lucy. “Are you alright?”

The statement and question didn't fit together but did a marvellous job at throwing Lucy, who was still not feeling her best, off her feet. Their eyes met. “Uhm... wa'?”

“I asked if you were alright. I loathe repeating myself,” he growled, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat.

“I'm fine, ta',” Lucy hissed and looked down. Bad idea. The corpse, although cleaned, made her stomach turn again and her look into a different direction quickly. She saw Inspector Layton's smile in her mind all over again.

“Can you tell me something I don't know yet?” Alfendi asked Florence quite aggressively, having Lucy's well-being abandoned as quickly as it had come to his mind. Florence growled and ignored the look he gave her in return. None of them seemed to have a good day.

“Nope. But feel free to keep standing around here,” Florence replied, turned on her heel and disappeared behind some shelves where Lucy knew her little office was.

They stood there in silence for a moment, Alfendi inspecting the victim, Lucy the door. “A truly interesting case, indeed. I wonder what the murderer is up to. It's his second one after all in such a short time...”

“The second murder?” Lucy asked, now turning her eyes back to Alfendi, careful not to look at the corpse. The cuts might not be bloody anymore but alone looking at the gaps they created made her insides move uncomfortably. Or more the pain that Lucy knew to connect to them.

“The shot man from your first day. It's clearly the same murderer,” he explained, looking at her with a raised eyebrow like it was obvious. Well, it probably was for him but not for Lucy. He rolled his eyes when he realized it. “The contrast. The murders are so different they have to be connected. I’m 98,4% sure that this is just a stupid attempt of covering it up. The chaos created at the crime scene. The killer surely likes this game.” He rubbed his hands. “I'm looking forwards to playing this.”

“You – _what?”_ Lucy blinked gritting her teeth, telling herself not to freak out. She took a deep breath.

“Something tells me this immense difference between the two murders was done on purpose. It's a game, Lucy, and it's on!” His eyes sparkled ecstatically, and Lucy lost it. “I cannot-”

“Shut up!” 

He didn't seem essentially frightened or shocked by her outburst, merely surprised. “I'm sorry?”

“I said _shut up_! I can't hear it anymore!”

Without another words, he stepped closer until they were as close as he and Hilda had been only minutes ago. “Be careful or I'll cut out your tongue!”

Oh yeah, that again. That must be his favourite phrase. She had lost count how often he had said it in the previous weeks to witnesses that weren't clever enough for him, criminals who weren't interesting enough for him, colleagues that weren't working quickly enough for him. Though it was the first time he was directing it at Lucy. The warning Florence had given her earlier this day came back to her mind, but she ignored it deliberately. She was done being talked down. She was Constable Lucy Baker, she was not backing down!

“This ain’t a game!” she hissed at him too loudly gesturing towards the corpse. By now, Florence had come running from her office to check what was happening. “None of this! You think of all these cases as your very personal amusement which they ain’t! These are people, _real_ people, people who had their life still ahead of them, who were killed! This woman was tortured to her death, and all you do is _laugh_?! This is serious! And you... you laugh! You laugh and say it's Christmas, your birthday, a game, you name it! Your deductions are brilliant, no doubt, but it's NOT A GAME!”

Lucy was breathing heavily, Alfendi was silent.

“And do ya know what the worst thing is? It ain't the corpse, it ain't the blood. God, not even the bloody smirk the killer crafted into the woman's face which you were so delightful and _joyous_ about. No, it's the bloody smirk on _your_ face! You laugh at murder and you are disappointed about those you consider _dull_ or _boring_!” She panted waiting for him to interrupt her. He didn't, however. “Say something! Ain’t that the _fun part_? When the suspect talks back and you can go all out on them?!” she snarled.

He blinked, was just staring at her. His hair shifted from red to purple and back to red rapidly.

“I'm so fed up with this! Just so you know I'll never quit this job. I am Constable Lucy Baker and I don't give up. But maybe the others were right and you're better off working alone with that... that _thing_ you're doing. This _game_.” She stopped gesturing wildly and just shook her head before she looked at a shocked Florence. “I see you tomorrow. Bye Flo!” 

And with that, Lucy was out the door where she ran straight up into Hilda. She eyed her with raised eyebrows, and Lucy tucked a strand of loose hair beneath her orange hat. Her face felt hot.

“Are you alright?” Hilda asked.

Lucy took a deep breath and nodded. Yes, she was alright now.


	6. The Inspector and the Fake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hummed to himself and looked to the ground, the look in his eyes distant. Lucy knew this was the sign he was talking to his other self.  
> “What's the matter? It's really not a problem. I mean I wouldn't have offered it otherwise,” Lucy assured him again tilting her head as she stifled a yawn.   
> “He... that offer is very kind and I would like to accept it,” he translated whatever conversation he and Al had just had, and Lucy nodded.  
> “Sure! I'm gonna quickly brush my teeth, then you can go in, okay?”  
> “Where have you stored the coffee?” she heard him call a few minutes later.  
> “Ain't got any here, sorry!” she called back, her mouth full of toothpaste. “I don't drink coffee!”  
> “How do you live?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! And so it continues...   
> I hope the last chapter wasn't too bad. I know it was bloody but it had to be like that. You'll find out why... not soon 'cause it'll probably take me ages till we reach that point.   
> Anyway, to make up for it, here is a cute chapter. Sliiiiiight Lucifendi if you squint. The one who can name the Sherlock reference gets a virtual cookie :D   
> That being said, have a good day and stay healthy!   
> Melinaa

Chapter 5

The Inspector and the Fake

Lucy had still felt agitated by the time she arrived at home, so she had decided to go for a run. She had always loved getting out of the house and it provided her a way to use up the excess energy that was still flowing through her body. Alone thinking of the situation back in the mortuary made another rush of adrenaline running through her veins. Plus, she had to stay in form for her job. But that was the last thing Lucy had in mind today as she shut the door close behind her and set off.

Yet she still was a (big) tad worried what Alfendi would say tomorrow – Lucy assumed he would either fire her right away or the quality of the working atmosphere would increase immensely. She hoped for the latter. She liked working at Scotland Yard, she liked being a detective, but working with Alfendi had been anything but pleasant most of the time so far. She wondered if they could ever make a good team – work together well, understand each other with as much as a glance when they found themselves in a dangerous situation. Lucy assumed they could if they worked on it. Both. Hard. A thing like this took months, if not years to develop. And it depended on the Inspector, but Lucy had to admit she wasn't too sure if he really wanted that. So far, he had expressed no desire to properly work with her. But, then again, Alfendi never failed to surprise her though it was more of a shock that a surprise. A highly unpleasant surprise.

Anyway.

This was why Lucy hadn't reckoned with him waiting in front of her door when she came back home an hour later, her head red, her hair and clothes sweaty. She pulled the headphones out of her ears.

“Alfendi?” she panted. She was out of breath and must look horrible.

“Hello Lucy.” He smiled – something else she hadn't seen too often yet. His hair was the dull shade of purple, so Lucy knew it wasn't his rude side who was greeting her. He was still wearing his suit with the dark blue shirt beneath it but had switched his lab coat for the thicker blue coat. A white scarf was wrapped around his neck. He must have come right from work. Lucy wondered – it wasn't that cold yet, as it was only October, but she didn't ask. Maybe it was his style. Like Lucy who liked to wear her orange hat all the time.

“What is it? Has there been another murder?” she asked, pushing a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. Her forehead was sweaty – she hoped she didn't have to go to a crime scene like this. But at least her breathing had gone back to normal. Maybe she could convince him to give her enough time for a super short shower...

“No. No, there hasn't been. Actually, I... I came to talk to you. With you,” he answered, pushing himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against. The scent of cold cigarettes hit Lucy as he moved – he'd been smoking. Her eyes flickered to his hair, just to be sure. Still the dull shade of purple. Either his personality had changed just before she'd arrived here or – actually Lucy didn't know what the other option was. She only knew that this side of Alfendi didn't smoke.

“To talk?”

“To... apologise,” he clarified and cleared his throat. “But it seems I caught you off guard. We can always talk tomorrow, or I can come back later when-”

“To apologise?” Lucy interrupted him, half shocked, half surprised. Pleasantly surprised this time. She hadn't reckoned with that and quickly shook her head. “Nah, it's fine. Do come in. I just need a quick shower,” she cut in quickly while she unlocked the door to the apartment complex that she was living in. He followed her up the stairs to the third floor. Whenever she glanced back at him she could see his eyes shifting, taking everything in. Lucy was sure he could tell her the exact number of stairs they had ascended by the time they had arrived in front of her door if she asked him. The thought made her grin.

“What's so funny?” Alfendi asked standing behind her just as she was about to unlock the door.

She turned towards him stunned. “How... did you... I weren't even looking at you!”

Now, it was his turn to grin but it was by no means as sarcastic as it would normally have been – it was delightful and accompanied by a shine in his eyes that suited him way better than the usual mad gleam. He pointed towards the windows that lined the opposite wall of the hallway. It was getting darker by the minute. “Your reflection.”

She looked at their mirror images and shook her head as she turned back to her door. “Brilliant. Why didn't I think of that?” Lucy muttered quietly upon stepping inside but he had heard her anyway.

“Thank you,” he chuckled softly as he wiped his feet. His eyes didn't stop shifting here either; Lucy was sure most people would apologise for the mess (a mess that wasn't really there). Like they apologised for who they were. So, she merely said, “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want something to drink?”

“No, I'm fine, thank you.” He looked around, somewhat uncomfortable now, like a child that had done something wrong and was now standing in the headmaster's office and waiting for their lecture on their impossible behaviour. Lucy smiled. She hadn't seen him so out of his element before.

She gestured towards the living room space. “Feel at home. I'll take a quick shower and be right back. Okay?”

Fidgeting with the end of his scarf he buried his face in its fabric frowning as if he were deep in thoughts. He looked like a child all the more to her. Then, he looked up and smiled. “Okay. Thank you.”

Lucy nodded and returned his smile. He could be rather nice and pleasant, really. But the entire situation confused her immensely. What was the reason for the sudden change of behaviour? Her outburst in the mortuary earlier? She shook her head laughing quietly to herself a moment later. That a sudden change of behaviour of his could still surprise her was hilarious. But it was different this time, she was aware of that.

Lucy quickly finished her shower. She didn't even take the time to properly dry her hair (not that she ever did), she merely got into another pair of black tracksuits and a baggy green shirt and ran a hand through her hair to make it somewhat look decent before she gave up and exited the bathroom. Passing her bedroom on the way to the living room, she threw her clothes from the day inside. She would throw them into the wash or fold them properly later... maybe.

Alfendi's coat and scarf had been placed over the back of her orange couch alongside the jacket of his suit. She figured he had sat there for a while before he had started exploring her living room. He was standing on front of one of her bookshelves, his hands clasped behind his back as he examined its contents, mostly books and photographs. She wondered what he could deduce about her from that.

“An interesting collection of books you have there. What is your favourite genre?” he asked, not turning around to her but instead leaning even closer towards the shelve as if it would whisper the answer to him. Maybe it did. Maybe that was the way his mind worked.

Lucy grinned as she flopped herself down onto the couch tucking her legs beneath herself. “You can't figure it out?” she teased.

At that he did turn and rolled his eyes at her. “You have equal amounts of many genres. Slightly more fantasy and science fiction books so I would take you for a fan of that. That would also tie in with the many video games and the games console you have.” He nodded towards her TV where her games consoles and a bunch of cables created a chaos. “You should, by the way, really clean that up. The amount of dust is unsettling.”

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes, but she chuckled. “Yes, I am a fan of fantasy and science fiction,” she answered his first question. He seemed content with that as he sat down next to her and nodded to himself. “You had already figured it out. Why did you ask me then?”

He shrugged but she sensed there was something more behind it. “Asking seemed to be the politer option,” he answered eventually and cleared his throat looking around the room awkwardly. Lucy waited. Patience was by no means a one of her strong suits but stubbornness was.

“I wanted to apologise,” he finally repeated his words from earlier. “But we have already been there.”

“Yes, we have.” Lucy waited, playing with one of the pillow's edges. She could wait.

He seemed uncomfortable, completely and utterly out of his element. Lucy felt somewhat sorry for him, but she also couldn’t make this any easier for him. He shifted back and forth, playing with the end of his sleeves until he decided to push them up to his elbows which resulted in fidgeting with the fabric of his trousers. He looked anywhere but at her.

“I'm sure by now you have heard of the... _company_ I keep in my head,” he began. His voice was barely more than a whisper as if he was ashamed of it.

“Aye. Your brother. That's what Florence called him,” Lucy answered.

He nodded. “Call him whatever you want. In that case I assume you know about the incident, too. Ever since then I have been living with him. Dissociative Identity Disorder.” He cleared his throat.

Lucy smiled at him. “Hey, that ain't something to be ashamed of. Could've happened to anyone. It's just not very pleasant to be around your brother. He's like an evil twin, ya know?”

He didn't respond for a long time. Lucy wasn't sure he had heard her. He looked to the ground, clenching and unclenching his fists again and again, burying his fingers into the fabric of his pants repeatedly. He took a deep breath before his eyes shot up to meet hers. Lucy gasped. She could see a heavy sadness within them, as well as... anxiety? She couldn't connect the emotion to him properly. It just seemed... absurd.

“Lucy,” he began, his voice a low murmur. “What do you think, who of us is the original one? The one who was always there?”

Lucy blinked. She hadn't reckoned with that question. But, then again, she hadn't known what she had expected.

“Well, you,” she answered gesturing towards him.

But she had a feeling she was wrong.

He smiled sadly. “Of course, you would think that. But that's what everyone thinks so don't take it personally. There couldn't ever be anyone so cruel and sadistic, smitten with killers and their doings, could there? Just imagine what a child that would be to have! No one could be like this, couldn't they? Surely the environment he was in for so long is guilty for a second personality of this amplitude... But. _They're. Wrong_.” He ran a hand through his hair. His voice had dropped at the end. “They're all wrong. He's the real one, Lucy. I'm the fake. If it wasn't for me, he would treat you like this all the time... shut up, would you?!,” he suddenly barked at the thin air in front of him. Lucy flinched at the change (that was getting a bit repetitive tonight, wasn't it?).

“Apologies,” he muttered immediately not yet letting Lucy any time to properly process the things he had just told her. “He doesn't agree with me on... most things.” He looked to the hands in his lap breathing heavily. As if it had taken him a lot more courage to tell her all of this than it seemed like.

“It's fine,” Lucy assured him. “I figured. Is it like... a second voice in your brain? Like someone is sitting next to you?” She gasped. “I'm sorry, is it even alright if I ask that? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smiled at her eager tone. His cheeks were still bright red, but he seemed to be feeling better. “Yes, it is, don't worry. He is a bit like... like a constant present in my head. I know he's there even if he doesn't talk. Or the other way around, I assume... yes.” He nodded to himself. “Is there more you would like to know? Don't hesitate to ask.”

“The migraine... is it from that, too? You don't always get it but...”

He hummed to himself, looking away. He was quiet before he spoke. “It is... complicated. But yes. We usually have a bit of a fight when he wants to take over and... no, shut up, I'm going to tell her that, if you want or not... don't you dare,” he hissed. His checks were literally lightening up as he did so. He cleared his throat when he slowly directed his gaze at Lucy. “Apologies.” He seemed ashamed.

“Aye, it's fine, like I said, Alfendi. I... I don't really know what it's like with someone else in your head, but I'll try my very best to understand. No need to be ashamed. It's alright to ask for help, ya know?” She smiled at him encouragingly. “You don't have to tell me if ya don't want. I would just like to have a nicer work atmosphere, that’s all.”

He shook his head vehemently. “No. I want to. It's important so a proper teamwork between the two of us can work,” he said. “It's just him who doesn't like the idea of it.”

“Of telling me?”

“Of telling anyone. Without threatening them.”

Lucy couldn't hold back her laughter at that and registered delighted that Alfendi chuckled along. “I imagine he's super happy ya just said that.”

“Excellent deduction.” He ran a hand through his hair before the atmosphere around them shifted, became more serious again. He took a deep breath. “When... we switch places it's usually fairly easy. Al was here first, he has a lot more power than me. I don't intervene either, I mean... I must be glad that I am still here. When he wants to take control, he usually has no problem at all – usually it happens so quickly that I barely get the chance to resist at all if I wanted to. He's also the one who retreats into out head and pushes me forward – for example when there's a situation he doesn't really want to deal with. Mostly because he finds them boring. One of the only moments when he's grateful to have me around,” he joked. Lucy had to grin.

“It is when I want to take control or want to remain in control and Al doesn't agree with it that the migraine starts. I have to gather an incredible amount of strength to push past him – sometimes I can manage to do so, but more often I can't. I can't blame him though. He might be the one people call “evil” or “mad”, yet I am the intruder. I probably wouldn't feel any different,” he admitted. Lucy wanted to interrupt him, but he wouldn't let her. “I can understand him. That's why I barely fight when he wants to take the reins. But this often leads to situations like those you had to endeavour the past weeks. No number of apologies could ever make up for me not stepping in and keeping him from insulting, threatening and treating you the way he... we did. I should have intervened much earlier. It feels like a lame excuse, but he wouldn't really let me. He was... very present the past weeks as he's rather-”

He suddenly groaned, hands shooting up to clasp his head between them as the colour of his hair switched from purple to red. When he looked back up, he rolled his eyes. “Seriously Baker, how can you listen to that pathetic fool? He's even worse than he's in my head, the stupid weakling... we said sorry and that's it. Now, I should-”

“Hey!” Lucy barked, grabbing his wrist and leaning close to his face. “I might have wanted to agree that you're not evil, but I never said you weren't meaner than the devil. You keep sitting here, Alfendi. I want this declared and not being snapped at at work tomorrow, okay? And there is no need to hurt him. He said himself he doesn't fight you.”

Alfendi blinked, rather surprised. She hadn't yet seen his mean side reacting this way yet. His hair, this time without any trace of pain or discomfort, switched back to purple. Lucy rose her eyebrows. “What's wrong?”

Alfendi chuckled a bit. “You caught him rather off guard I would say. He's confused. He doesn't like it. And doesn't want to – shut up, I'm going to tell her – handle that situation. Well, he doesn't know how to.”

Lucy smiled. It wasn't mean or teasing, it was a genuine smile to show him that there was no need to be uncomfortable around her. She retracted her hand.

“Look, I have an idea,” Lucy suggested standing up. “Since it seems like you're gonna stay a bit longer, I'm gonna make some tea, alright? Any wishes?”

He nodded. “That would be very nice, Lucy, thank you. Just make whatever you want.”

“Aye!” she exclaimed rather happily, turning on her heel. But she didn't get far.

“How do you know, Baker?” she heard him snarl the moment she had turned her back towards him. “How do you know I'm not evil?”

Lucy slowly turned to face the mean Alfendi. He looked at her, his amber eyes huge in his thin, pale face, the messy red hair like a curtain, like a precaution to shut himself off of anything he didn't want to hear, to shut her out at any moment, and his eyes gleaming with something Lucy would describe as a mixture between hope and amazement. There was, for once, nothing unsettling in them.

She cleared her throat. She was reading too much into this. _Get a clear head, Lucy Baker!_ “Because I lived with evil people,” she answered, her voice barely more than a whisper. “That's how I know you're not one of them, Al.”

They didn't touch on the subject anymore when Lucy came back with two mugs and a huge pot of steaming hot tea. Instead, they sat opposite from each other on the couch, legs crossed beneath themselves, and asked questions about each other. It felt like a really awkward but incredibly extraordinary sleepover to Lucy who wouldn't stop grinning at the thought. She had always liked doing odd things.

“The suits and dress shirts. Your style or his?” Lucy asked the nice Alfendi (so, Fendi) a few hours later when he had, after asking her if she was alright with it, taken off his blue dress shirt to sit there in a plain black tee that he wore underneath. “You usually wear a sweater when I come in and am greeted by Fendi and the dress shirt when Al is in control. Or is it just coincidence?”

“There is no such a thing as coincidence, Lucy. The universe is rarely so lazy,” he lectured her and took a sip of his raspberry tea. “But yes, beside the different temper, we also have a very different style. He prefers dress shirts and suits, I prefer a sweater and sneakers... he finds my style terrible. And I find it terrible to sit in my office all day with something as uncomfortable as a suit.”

Lucy nodded. She had already assumed something like this.

“By the way, that was a very good deduction,” he praised approvingly which made her grin and grow at least an inch. He raised his mug. “Your favourite tea?”

“Aye! Always had it with my best friend when we were children,” she answered happily. “My turn. Your favourite colour?”

“Wow, now you're overdoing it!” Alfendi grinned which made Lucy burst out laughing. She could prevent her tea from spilling only at the very last second. “Blue I would say.”

“Like the shirt?”

“Exactly. What's yours?”

“Orange.”

It went on like this. Family, friends, hobbies, what had school been like, favourite TV shows, movies, books and so on... it went for many hours (and many tea pots) which they only realised when a ray of sun shone through the window above the kitchen counter (they had moved there when Lucy had gone to make another pot of tea) and hit Alfendi's face. He squinted holding up a hand to shield himself from the light, and Lucy gasped.

“Oh bugger, it's already morning! I'm so sorry for keeping you here for so long! I didn't want that, really!”

Alfendi waved it off smiling. This night, he had smiled more often than in the past weeks. Well, she had also seen more of Fendi than in the past weeks. Al had popped in a few times but mostly kept to listening. Alfendi had assured her that he actually liked listening and didn't complain constantly about how boring all of this was.

“It's fine, Lucy. I am the one who must apologise for keeping you up and wear out your welcome,” he replied considerately, getting up and stretching. “I should go home now to get ready, otherwise I won't make it to work on time...”

“Ya can shower here, ya know?” Lucy offered, watching how his eyes darted towards her. “No need to rush, it's not a problem, really. And one more hour won't make a difference now. I think I should have a spare toothbrush somewhere...”

He hummed to himself and looked to the ground, the look in his eyes distant. Lucy knew this was the sign he was talking to his other self.

“What's the matter? It's really not a problem. I mean I wouldn't have offered it otherwise,” Lucy assured him again tilting her head as she stifled a yawn.

“He... that offer is very kind and I would like to accept it,” he translated whatever conversation he and Al had just had, and Lucy nodded.

“Sure! I'm gonna quickly brush my teeth, then you can go in, okay?”

“Where have you stored the coffee?” she heard him call a few minutes later.

“Ain't got any here, sorry!” she called back, her mouth full of toothpaste. “I don't drink coffee!”

“How do you live?!”

Lucy giggled when she heard Al's outraged exclamation. While both of them liked tea, it was definitely Al who couldn't survive without coffee in the morning. Mostly because he didn't sleep a lot and somehow needed to stay awake during work. Lucy had made a mental note to make him sleep every now and then since there was a couch in the Mystery Room.

She handed him a spare toothbrush and a towel and showed him the bathroom while she herself went to her bedroom to dress for work. The clothes from last night were still lying scattered around the room. She would clean that up later. With her head in her closet she realised she had told herself the exact same thing last night. Lucy grinned as she threw the clothes she wanted to wear for work onto her bed.

Dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans she met Alfendi who had his blue shirt back on in the hall. His hair seemed messier than normal. “Here, I found a pair of socks that should be your size. My dad left them here the last time he visited me I guess... wouldn't know who else they're from.”

“What about a lover, Baker?” he teased as he struggled to get them on fighting to stand on one foot and not lose balance. Lucy swiftly took advantage of it and shoved him lightly for his comment. He stumbled against the wall but kept grinning at her. “Come on, Baker, don't be like that now. We spent a night together after all.”

“Don't overdo it, Alfendi Layton! And you won't call it that or we get into trouble at work,” she scolded, half joking, half serious. She didn't want to get into trouble because of something as stupid as _this_.

He rolled his eyes. “You're no fun, Baker,” he muttered tying his scarf around his neck.

“Hey, that ain't nice!” she replied. “It's against the rules, relationships between colleagues.”

He rolled his eyes again. “I had a relationship with Hilda going in for years and no one said a thing.” He thought about it for a moment when Lucy was entirely stunned by this information. He hadn't even mentioned it in the slightest last night. “Maybe they did but I just didn't listen. Fendi is convinced someone said something. Anyway-” He stopped abruptly when he saw the expression on her face. “Oh, come on, you're getting stuck on _that_? Really?”

“Well, I – yes! I didn't expect that!” she finally answered as they left the apartment. Lucy wasn't living too far away from the Yard, so she usually walked there in the mornings which mostly resulted into arriving too late because she got distracted by all kinds of things on her way. She only took the public means of transport when she was running especially late or when the weather was horrible. None of it applied today so they walked.

The sun was shining, in fact, and Lucy closed her eyes and craned her neck towards it to soak as much of the natural light as possible as she stifled a yawn. She was blissfully unaware of Alfendi watching her intently and the tiny smile that was slowly forming on his tired, unshaven face. Only now it occurred to Lucy that their appearance could cause a bunch of their colleagues to talk. Or more think as none of them would dare to actually voice their thoughts in fear of Alfendi's rage. Lucy's smile turned into a grin at that thought

It would be a good day. Lucy could feel that.


	7. A Study in Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “qir?”  
> “Girl; obviously. It’s not q but a g. But why write that here? Why write it at all? Why would that be her last message? It doesn't make sense... Except it-” His voice suddenly broke away and he stood abruptly, his eyes focusing on the corpse. “Something is... off.”  
> “She was arranged like that, wasn't she?” Lucy asked finally stepping closer.  
> Alfendi nodded. “Yes. But that's not...” He stopoped. “Mr. Palmor,” he called out without taking his eyes off the corpse. “Is Officer Dartwright already here? I need pictures taken and data collected immediately. Also, the corpse needs to be moved. I... I need to see the woman's face.”  
> Mr. Palmor nodded. “I'll check on that immediately, Inspector.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys! A quick update for you ^^   
> This chapter, as you might be able to guess from the title, is heavily influenced by Arthur Conan Doyle's work and BBC's Sherlock.   
> I hope you are all doing fine and stay healthy. I wish you and your loved ones the best. 
> 
> Melina

Chapter 6

A Study in Yellow

Arriving at the Yard, Lucy still wasn't able to wrap her head around the fact that Alfendi and Hilda had once been a couple.

Maybe a cup of coffee would help with that.

Lucy disliked the taste of coffee but she rather liked the smell that was slowly filling the room as Alfendi was making himself a cup. It was still early, not too early to be here but too early for anyone else. Lucy leaned against the fridge and yawned. “I ain't got any idea how to survive that day,” she murmured groggily, rubbing her eyes.

“Never pulled an all-nighter for school?” Alfendi asked as he tapped his fingers rhythmically against the counter, eyes fixed on the coffee maker.

Lucy smiled lazily. “Nope. I was always a good kid, going to bed early and sleeping eight hours a night.”

“Boring.” He looked up grinning, their eyes meeting. “Can't tell me that. I'll ask your parents.”

Lucy crossed her arms in front of her chest. She tilted her head upwards a bit to lean it against the fridge and closed her eyes. “They'll tell you exactly that,” she muttered, her good mood suddenly gone. The tiredness was what remained. She was ready to fall asleep leaning against the fridge when she suddenly heard the sound of high heels flying across the long floors of Scotland Yard accompanied by a barking laugh.

“Ay, Hildy, ya' can't tell me that!”

“And if I say so, it is true!”

“No, I – oy, morning Al! Lucy! What are you already doing here?”

Lucy opened her eyes reluctantly, her gaze flying towards Alfendi who looked so bloody cheerful that Lucy wanted to hit him. How could he not be a bit tired at least? She smiled at them. “Morning, Justin, morning Hilda. I couldn't sleep anymore so I thought I come early.”

“And I haven't been sleeping at all,” Alfendi added as he took a sip of his coffee. He sighed contently stroking a strand of purple hair behind his ear. “Great coffee, finally. Does anyone else want a cup?”

Maybe Lucy should try some coffee, too. “For me, please. I might fall asleep otherwise.” She yawned deeply before she leaned her head back against the fridge but kept her eyes open this time. Hilda's gaze met hers, and she smiled again.

“I take a cup, too,” Justin cut in cheerfully. Hilda's gaze went from Lucy to Alfendi, who was running a hand over his unshaven chin, and back to Lucy. Lucy wondered what was going on in her head and was about to ask when Hilda moved to stand in front of Alfendi.

Without a word, she took the cup from his hands and put it on the counter beside him. And before Alfendi could complain or react, she had slapped him across the face.

The sudden sound jolted Lucy awake, and alerted everyone in the room. She saw and heard how Hilda slapped him a second time. Lucy couldn't do anything but star. Justin was about to lose it, she could tell. She glared at him. Did he think this was funny?!

“What. Do. You. Have. To. Say. For. Yourself?” Hilda squeezed out, her voice strained, she herself clearly just about to scream. Lucy blinked. Why had she done that?!

Alfendi was slowly turning his head towards her, cradling his left cheek. The red handprint was as visible as the anger in his eyes. “That I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring. Now, would you be so kind and tell me why you felt the sudden urge to SLAP ME?!”

“This is not funny! I had expected better from you, Alfendi Layton! She's your ASSISTANT! I mean I was your colleague but she is-”

“OH MY GOD, NO! NO, NO, NO!” Lucy interrupted her so suddenly and hectically that everyone in the room automatically jumped. She hurried over to squeeze between the two of them, turning towards Hilda. “No! We didn't – I mean I would never – it's against the – I wouldn’t even think of it!” Lucy stumbled over her own words because she tried to get out so much at so little time. She was as red as a tomato.

“God, Hilda, really?”

Lucy let out a relieved breath as Alfendi finally seemed to get it, too, and cut in. But it was only short lived.

“Do you really think that badly of me? That I would go over to my _assistant's_ home and _fuck_ her?” Alfendi pushed past Lucy, who had, if possible, gotten even redder, to glare at Hilda, their noses almost touching. “Seriously, Hilda? You and I were something different, we are colleagues as you so kindly pointed out. Lucy is, as you also so kindly pointed out, my _assistant_. Which means I am to teach her and look out for her career-wise. And _yes;_ I did go to Lucy's home to, in fact, _apologise_ for my rude behaviour over the past weeks. And _yes_ , I did stay there because we talked to get to know each other better. _Yes, the entire night_.” He stepped even closer lowering his voice dangerously. “You, of all people, should know how easily this can happen. Or do I have to remind you of those times when you told me about all your little problems and-”

“Alright, that's enough, Al!” Justin's deep voice made Lucy jump, and he pulled Alfendi away from Hilda who had started trembling. “It's enough! You didn't do anything that was against the rules, Hilda is sorry for slapping you. Now, why don't you take your assistant downstairs to your office and I take Hilda to hers and we all spend a nice and productive day at work?”

Alfendi grinned. “Oh, always so defensive, I see. You two should have ended up together. Always wondered why she chose me over you. Not that I minded,” he snarled, eyes gleaming up at Justin.

“Justin, that's a wonderful idea! Alfendi, come! I'm sure we can use Florence's coffee maker!” Lucy quickly interrupted because Justin looked ready to throw a punch at Al which would certainly take him out more than a slap could. She quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room before any of them would do something they would later regret.

“Was that really necessary? You could just have said that we didn't – didn't... you know! Not... go all out and be that mean!” Lucy scolded him. It was only then that she noticed his hair colour had changed. Al was ruling again. Lucy rolled her eyes. No wonder he had gone all out on Hilda.

“Didn't what? Don't tell me you're a flustered girl who can't say that we-”

“Yes, I am, and now stop! Just stop, will ya?” She didn't really expect him though. Fendi, yes. Al, no.

She was all the more surprised when he simply said, “okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

They stood in the middle of the corridor of the basement. Above them, people were walking, voices were audible. The day at the Yard started.

Lucy smiled. “Okay. I'm gonna go ask Florence if I can use her coffee maker. Didn't let you time to grab yours.”

He grinned. “Wonderful idea, Baker. But don't you dare chatting all day, we've got a lot of paperwork to do. Well, you do.” He winked at her.

 _Thanks_ , she thought as she watched him enter the Mystery Room before she turned around to head to the mortuary. It was only then that she realised that it had also been Al who had admitted to Hilda that he had actually apologised to Lucy.

“Oh, hello Lucy. What – Achoo! - brings you to me this early?” Florence asked upon her walking into the mortuary. Lucy could feel a stupid grin on her face.

“I wanted to know if I could use your coffee maker. And I have to tell you something, you won't believe it...”

Yeah, there had indeed been a lot of paperwork.

The weeks were passing rather slowly, suspects were brought in but none did even come close to being the one they were searching for, other cases were solved, just the normal daily routine. The identification and examination of Isabelle Hawthrone had probably been the most “exciting” thing if one wanted to call it that. The cause of death, the cut throat, didn't look nearly as deadly with the blood wiped away, her eyes closed, and her body covered. Almost like she was sleeping.

She had been buried on a Thursday. It had rained.

Alfendi was diligently collecting all the data and evidence he deemed important. Lucy still didn't understand why exactly he thought the two murders to be connected but her gut told her to trust Alfendi's instincts. The data was collected on the wall above the couch and it looked like the typical display of data one would see in movies or TV shows. Quite funny but it was efficient.

Lucy could tell that Alfendi was getting impatient. The murderer was inactive, and she knew it was setting him off. Last time he had already made his move by now.

“I swear,” he said over lunch on Tuesday, “when we finally get the announcement of another murder I'll rush there myself and will definitely NOT wait for Dartwright to send me the data.”

It was the Friday that followed when they got the call of another murder. Keeping his promise, Alfendi and Lucy rushed to the crime scene, a little flat in middle of London.

 _Baker Street_ , Lucy thought as they arrived, her face a grim mask.

“Baker Street,” Alfendi grinned when they got out of the car, mirroring her thoughts. “Quite fitting.” He was delighted there had been another murder, and Lucy tried not to let it disturb her so much. She had, of course, expressed her disapproval over his joyous mood but there was also nothing she could do against it. So, she told herself she would let him and try to minimise what he would actually say when people were around. And when she would be in the same room as him. He could think and talk in monologue whatever he wanted when no one was around.

Police cars were parked everywhere, and it looked like the first crime scene except that it was slowly getting dark. Lucy pulled her coat tighter around herself. November had approached. Maybe she should get out her winter coat soon she thought while she reached for her badge.

They pushed past the reporters (seriously, how could they be even quicker than them?), identified themselves and made their way into the building that housed the flat. Several police officers dressed in protective suits were swarming through the building, curious neighbours were sneaking glances through their barely opened doors and curtains. Lucy grabbed two pairs of thin gloves from one of the tables standing around. They would need them later and Alfendi had already gone ahead and talk to an officer without some.

“It's on the third floor. A neighbour, Mr. Ivy, called the police when he and his family heard loud voices and fighting,” the police officer, Mr. Palmon, explained to them quietly as they ascended the stairs. “We've already talked to Mr. Ivy and his family. They all told the same. Also, that after it went quiet, someone was descending the stairs but unfortunately none of the Ivys did look.”

“Have they given any more information about the steps?” Alfendi asked, eyes gleaming. His hair was the shade of dull purple which belonged to Fendi, but Lucy could tell that Al was right beneath the surface, ready to take over any second.

“Like?”

“Male of female? Light or heavy? One pair of steps or several?” Alfendi clarified and sighed when Mr. Palmon shook his head. “We'll ask them ourselves later.” He took the last three stairs with one step, overtaking the officer in the process as they neared the crime scene. Excitement was radiating from him.

“Please tell Mr. Ivy and his family to stay here and be available when we want to question them further,” Lucy asked Mr. Palmon.

He smiled and nodded. “Of course.” He turned towards another officer to pass on Lucy's words. The officer nodded as well and went downstairs. It was only then that Lucy followed Alfendi into the victim's flat.

“We couldn't find and documents like an ID or a driving license yet but we haven't been here for too long either,” Mr. Palmon explained. Alfendi growled at that but didn't say anything, instead took the gloves Lucy was handing him and taking them on. “She's lying in the living room. No one has been in there so far we've only seen her from the door.”

“So, it's a woman?”

“I assume so.”

Alfendi had already stepped through the door to the living room but stopped so suddenly that Lucy had almost bumped into him. She was prepared for another bloody crime scene, and so must Alfendi have been.

The room was a mess. Books were scattered across the floor, pictures, newspaper articles, pillows; some of the furniture sat at a weird angle as if someone had pushed them aside roughly. The woman and the murderer must have had an intense fight before her death, that much was clear.

The woman was lying on her stomach, exactly in the middle of the living room. Her hair was long and brown, intermingled with streaks of grey, flowing down her back in a way that everyone could see that she had been arranged to lie like this. Her hands had been placed next to her head in a way a criminal raised their hands when they capitulated. Was there a deeper meaning behind it? Whatever it was, the most interesting thing was what the woman was wearing. The shade of yellow her coat had was a strong contrast to the dark wooden floor and the huge blood stain on her fight side.

Alfendi was carefully stepping around the room now, eyes on the corpse. He hadn't said a word yet, but Lucy was sure the thoughts in his head were basically stumbling upon each other. Did they even stumble? Or was there never chaos in his head?

He stopped a few steps away from the corpse and crouched down. His fingers traced the floor. Lucy stepped closer to see what had aroused his interest.

Blood. But something was interesting about them, they looked like letters someone had written down. _q – I – r._

Lucy’s eyes flew to the corpse and immediately back to the letters. She didn’t want to imagine the circumstances under which the woman must have written them. But the image had already burned itself into Lucy’s brain.

“qir?”

“ _Girl;_ obviously. It’s not q but a g. But why write that here? Why write it at all? Why would that be her last message? It doesn't make sense... Except it-” His voice suddenly broke away and he stood abruptly, his eyes focusing on the corpse. “Something is... off.” 

“She was arranged like that, wasn't she?” Lucy asked finally stepping closer.

Alfendi nodded. “Yes. But that's not...” He stopoped. “Mr. Palmor,” he called out without taking his eyes off the corpse. “Is Officer Dartwright already here? I need pictures taken and data collected immediately. Also, the corpse needs to be moved. I... I need to see the woman's face.”

Mr. Palmor nodded. “I'll check on that immediately, Inspector.” He left the room.

Lucy eyed Alfendi. She wasn't sure but she meant to have heard a slight hesitation in his voice. But Alfendi was now looking around the room, making his deductions as usual, so she couldn't tell for sure.

“What have you deduced so far?” Alfendi asked turning towards her, hands clasped behind his back. His jaw was tight.

“Uhm...” Lucy stepped a bit closer clearing her throat as she looked at the corpse. “There has been a fight before she was killed. She died in this place but was arranged to lay exactly like that, probably... last night? The rigor mortis started already. She's... older but I can't guess how old. Maybe 50? I guess she must have trained some kind of martial art and that for a long time otherwise she wouldn't have been able to pull off a fight... Is it the same murder who murdered the other two?”

“Yes,” Alfendi answered. “And she's 56,” he added, more quietly. 

Lucy looked up frowning. “How do you know that? We don't even know who she is.”

He gulped. “I... have a feeling I know her,” he admitted quietly. “56, was trained in different styles of martial arts since she was four, did it for most of her life as far as I know. Travelled the world as a reporter, liked to travel personally a lot, too. Interested in archaeology. The pictures on the wall and the books before you ask although I know it from personal experience.” He gestured around the room. “Her parents are dead; she has no siblings or other family left. She was alone but never lonely. Lots of friends.”

Lucy blinked. She hadn't expected the emotions, Alfendi's voice was heavy with them. He must have known the woman well. Lucy stepped closer to him to place a comforting hand on his upper arm. His head jolted towards her when he felt the touch, and it was only then that Lucy realised that Fendi had disappeared long ago; this was Al who was talking about the woman with a fondness in his voice Lucy hadn't thought him to be able to muster. He blinked a few times.

“Who is she?” Lucy barely dared to ask.

“She's-”

“I'm here!” It was that exact moment that Blaine basically dashed into the room with his camera. “Sorry I'm late! I'll immediately get to – is everything alright?”

Alfendi and Lucy had basically jumped to opposite sides of the room as if lightning had struck them the moment Blaine had come in. An awkward tension was what remained.

“Yes, Dartwright. Now, get on, we don't have all day!” Alfendi spat out annoyed, masquerading his actual emotions Lucy had seen just a second ago perfectly. Blaine only nodded and started with his work. “And don't you dare contaminate anything!”

Alfendi crossed his arms in front of his chest and watched him like a hawk, and it showed. Blaine glanced over to Alfendi more than once during his work. It got a bit better when the people from forensics showed up, waiting just as patiently (or impatiently in Alfendi's case) for Blaine to finish his job.

“Okay, done,” he announced as he straightened himself. He carefully stepped over the corpse to make room for the people from forensics. Lucy watched quietly how they set up their gear and conferred how to proceed with the corpse. Alfendi tapped his foot next to her.

“Okay, we're moving it now,” one of the men announced. It needed five people to turn the corpse over, careful not to contaminate it or destroy any evidence, until it was lying on its back.

It was indeed a woman. Her dead, grey eyes stared at the ceiling, yet the colour of her face was still lively. Probably caused by the fact that she'd been lying on the floor facing downwards, letting gravity do the rest. Around her neck was an aggressive red ring; she'd been strangled. Her lips were blue. Death by suffocation most probably. The red ring wasn't smooth. She had struggled even on the ground. A laceration was just behind her hairline. A single streak of blood was running down her face. It could look peaceful.

Lucy looked over to Alfendi whose eyes rested on the woman's face. His gaze flickered with something she couldn't really put her finger on. Anger? Rage? Shock? For a moment, a shadow went across his face and it became absolutely blank as if he had pressed a reset button before it settled into a cold expression which was free from any emotion.

“Emmy,” he whispered before he turned to leave the room, his face hidden behind strand of fire red hair and his coat flowing behind him like the cape of a hero who had just been defeated.

No one noticed.


	8. A Face from the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Emmy was... a good friend of my father. They had worked together for a few years,” he began quietly, fidgeting with the fabric of his coat. He hadn't bothered to take it off. “They had parted ways for many years afterwards in which Emmy started working as a reported, travelling the world... they met again and kept in touch. Emmy would often look after me and my sister, cooking with us, helping with homework... though that was a fruitless job, my sister and I were out of her and frankly everyone's class. But she was there. Taught me martial arts when I said I wanted to become a police officer, played criminals with me, brought me and my sister to bed when out father would stay at work all night again... I never knew my mother and Emmy was there. She was... family. I wanted to tell my father about Emmy so he wouldn't have to find out through the papers. But... we don't exactly have the best relationship since... since some things happened.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!   
> I hope all of you are doing fine.   
> I don't have a lot to say today, forgive me. I hope you will enjoy the chapter :)   
> Melinaa

Chapter 7

A Face from the Past

It was silent when Lucy returned to the Mystery Room. Alfendi was nowhere to be seen.

Actually, it had been silent from the moment he had whispered the woman's name. It had been Lucy who had monitored Blaine's work and the work of the people from forensics, Lucy who had interrogated the Ivy family. It had been their little daughter who had been the most helpful.

“I think it was one man. The steps were heavy. Like daddy's steps when he comes home late,” she had chirped, her gaze quickly flying over to her father before she had looked back at Lucy who had had a hard time keeping her smile. The girl had beamed at her when Lucy had praised her for her words and desperately tried not to star at the girl's blue wrist.

It had been Lucy who had called Inspector Hastings to run a check the family, Lucy who had incurred Alfendi's wrath; well, she had thought she would because he would have deemed her call a waste of time. But he hadn't said anything when she had arrived at the car. Only stubbed out his cigarette and drove back to Scotland Yard silently.

His usually vividly red hair had seemed quite pale; still red but pale.

Lucy had again overtaken the task to monitor the people from forensics as they brought the body to Florence and Lucy who had updated Florence on everything that had happened.

“Do you know who she is? Who she is to Alfendi? He was quite... haggard. Still seems under a strain.”

Florence had only shrugged. “I'm sorry, I – Achoo! – have never heard of her before,” she had answered looking down at this Emmy person. “She must have had quite the influence on him.”

“Aye,” Lucy had quietly agreed, and they'd been standing there in silence, the corpse in the body bag between them like something none of them were truly ready to face, until Lucy's phone had gotten off. She'd quickly set up a call divert in the car so all calls would go to her phone instead of Alfendi's when he had handed her his phone. She didn't exactly know what was wrong, but she guessed this was his way of mourning. Who was this Emmy?

Blaine had called to tell her he had sent over all the data to set up the Mystery Room. Lucy had thanked him and left Florence with a nod. She hadn't dared look back when she had heard her unzip the body bag.

The sound had made a shiver run down her spine. The silence in the Mystery Room was eerie. No kettle was boiling, no Alfendi muttering under his breath, no interrogation being done, no scent of tea or coffee filling the room. The shiver returned while Lucy was bent over the desk, eyes fixed on the computer screen as she set up the USB drive for the Mystery Room. Alfendi had shown her how to do it a while ago. It had taken Lucy a few tries until she had gotten it right. It was like riding a bike.

Lucy hesitated a moment as she unplugged the USB drive. Should she wait for Alfendi? She hadn't seen him since they had arrived back at the Yard. They had exited the car together, and he had lit another cigarette and stayed behind when Lucy had entered the Yard. She hoped he wouldn't smoke the whole package. She could admit it, she was more than a bit worried for him.

She eventually decided to just set up the Mystery Room. It wouldn't hurt. Alfendi could give his insights later, too; the crime scene wouldn't run away.

She inserted the different codes and selected the files she needed, went back to the PC to adjust some details here and there before she let the machine do its magic. Within less than half a minute, the little “Ping!” told Lucy that she could get to work.

She opened the door to the Mystery Room armed with a clipboard and a biro and found herself faced with the back of this Emmy. Lucy checked the papers on the clipboard. Alfendi never bothered to check the papers with the information about the victim and had taught Lucy the same. Yet she found it was inappropriate, especially in this case. Emmeline Altava, 56, no family left. Worked as a reporter and as a martial arts instructor when she wasn't travelling the world. Had she taught Alfendi? Lucy bit her lip as she looked at the replication of Emmeline on the ground. The yellow of her coat was as vivid as it had been at the crime scene. She doubted she was just a teacher to Alfendi. She had seen his reaction. She was unable to make a head nor tail on it because she didn't know him well enough. One could only find out so much in three months of working together. Lucy sighed, placed the clipboard on the ground and bent over Emmeline.

“Now then, tell me what you know,” Lucy murmured and got to work. The silence was pleasant to work in and, Lucy had to admit, so was Alfendi's absence. She liked to work with him, she really did. But his gaze was usually burning a hole into her back, the impatient tapping of his foot straining her nerves because he found she took too long.

Lucy changed the file to have Emmeline lying on her back. She examined her face. She looked younger than her age. Barely any wrinkles on her face, only a few streaks of grey in her otherwise brown hair. Her eyes were wide open, her mouth slightly ajar, the red marks on her neck, partially bloody, partially just bruising. Strangled with a rope, some of the filament was still remaining in the wound. The evidence at the crime scene had indicated a fight in her flat; Lucy would have to go to Florence soon to see what laid beneath Emmeline's clothes. Probably more bruises, maybe some deeper wounds. The cause of death was clearly the strangulation, but it would be good to have the final proof.

Lucy didn't hear the steps, but she felt his gaze burning two holes into her back. She turned around without raising to her feet. She remained next to the corpse's head to spare Alfendi the view.

He didn't say a word when their gazes met. He pushed himself forward and stepped next to her, his eyes fixed on Emmeline. A strand of red hair fell into his eyes and he stroked it behind his ear. He remained silent for the better part of a minute before he cleared his throat. “I met Florence on my way here,” he murmured, his voice low. “You... we should come over when we are done here.”

Lucy nodded, grabbed the clipboard and rose to her feet. There wasn't a lot more she could do right now without what Florence had to say. Her knees cracked unhealthily. She wasn't even that old yet! She touched Alfendi's shoulder when he didn't move. He winced like he'd just woken up from a dream before he silently followed her. Lucy gulped. It shouldn't have to be like this. It shouldn't have to be her to take the lead. It was Alfendi's job. And his character.

She degraded the crime scene and sorted the documents into the file. She would type it into the computer later.

Lucy entered before Alfendi and would have liked to turn around the moment she set foot into the mortuary. Florence was bent over Emmeline and wrist deep in her chest as they entered.

“I told you to come later, Alfendi!” Florence complained. She pulled her hands out of Emmeline's chest to rub her nose with her shoulder. Her gloves were bloody.

 _Oh shit_. Alfendi. Lucy looked over to him. His face was as white as the wall, the light in the room made him look like a ghost. The red hair only reinforced it. His eyes were wide open and fixed on Emmeline. “Alfendi-”

“I'm fine!” he snapped and strode towards Florence. He slammed his flat hands opposite of her onto the autopsy table. The metallic sound echoed aggressively through the room. “Tell me something I don't know yet,” he snapped, breathing ragged.

Florence rose her eyebrows and Lucy could swear that she was about to crack some joke but thought better of something and instead replied, “I can only confirm what you already know.”

Alfendi made a vague movement with his hand. “Go ahead. Lucy, come over? You were the one to do the work in the Mystery Room, you probably have the better insight.”

Florence had covered up Emmeline's body, and looked up surprised from where she was now taking off the bloody gloves. Her protective suit rustled when went over to her computer and sat down. Lucy and Alfendi followed suit.

“56 years of age, cause of death the strangulation like you already suspected. She was – Achoo! – strangled from behind. Not as many bruises as I expected from the look of the crime scene, a few broken ribs, a nasty wound at the forehead. I can show you the bruises later once I've finished my work here.”

“That would be nice,” Lucy cut in before Alfendi could say anything along the lines of “Show us immediately!” She really wasn't too keen on standing next to a cut open body. And she wasn't too sure how good that would be for Alfendi.

Florence nodded. “I took some samples from beneath her fingernails and from the skin above the wounds in hopes there's some DNA from the perpetrator remaining but so far I've only found her own blood. I guess she used it to write on the floor... was does “q _Ir”_ even mean?”

This time it was Alfendi who answered quicker. “I thought “ _girl_ ” but I am not sure,” he said quietly. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked over to where Emmeline was lying beneath the thin blue cover as if to avoid Lucy's surprised gaze. Hadn't he been entirely sure at the crime scene? What had changed?

Lucy glanced at Florence who was eyeing him warily and decided to ask Alfendi once they were alone again. “Can you say something about the object she was strangled with?”

Florence nodded. “Yes. Some synthetic material. I still need to run a few more tests but I am pretty sure it's the average stuff you get in any DIY warehouse. But I'll check it of course.” She went through the file on the computer, then through some papers on her desk. “That is – Achoo! – sadly all I can tell you for now. We will know more in a few days.”

Lucy nodded. “Ta, Flo. We'll be back in the Mystery Room. Let us know if you find out anything, will ya?”

“Sure.” Both of them looked at Alfendi whose gaze still rested on Emmeline. Lucy lightly touched his shoulder, but he flinched anyway.

“You think so, too?” Lucy said to give him a chance to cover up his mental absence.

He pulled a grimace. “Spare me your pity, Baker. Both of you!” he snapped and turned to leave the room.

Lucy sighed looking at where he’d vanished through the door. “You know sometimes I think we're finally getting somewhere and then he does something like this... You really have no idea who she is?”

“None. I'm sorry.” Florence stood up and went back to the autopsy table upon which Emmeline was resting. “I'll let you know if I find out anything.”

Ah. Lucy's clue to leave. She found Alfendi bent over the computer when she went back to the Mystery Room. “Thanks for doing the work in the Mystery Room,” he muttered into the screen. Lucy mustered him. Despite the natural daylight streaming into the room, his face was being shined on by the screen's light and gave him an unhealthy appearance even worse than in the mortuary. Deep circles lay beneath his eyes; he generally wasn't sleeping much but it was one of the first times it actually affected his looks. His hair was the shade of purple again. Al had withdrawn and yielded the floor to Fendi.

“No problem,” Lucy answered. “The information still have to be digitalised. I can-”

“I'm already doing it, thank you,” he cut her off, his eyes never leaving the screen. He was typing furiously. Lucy was just standing there watching for a while until he looked up. “Do you need something?” he asked irritated.

Lucy quickly shook her head. “Sorry. Just thinking,” she hurried to answer. She went over to the kettle.

“It's fine. Don't apologise.”

“You want some tea, too?”

But he didn't answer anymore so Lucy made a cup for him as well and placed it next to him before she sat down cross-legged in front of the couch with another file that needed to be finished in her hands. Only some minor delinquency, nothing of the scale of what Alfendi was currently dealing with. They were working in silence for a while, each for themselves, for a few hours.

He was only looking up when Lucy let out a huge yawn and stretched herself. She'd been sitting like this for hours. The sun had long gone down and the Yard had quieted down. It was most probably long after knocking-off time.

The room was dimly lit by the little lamp standing next to Lucy and the couch on a little table. She had switched it on some time ago. Alfendi's face was illuminated by the screen's light giving him an even unhealthier appearance than a few hours ago. The shadows beneath his eyes seemed to have deepened. It took Lucy a few moments to realise that Alfendi wasn't even typing anymore, he was just staring at the screen. She was sure his cup of tea was exactly standing where she'd placed it hours ago. “Alfendi?”

He wasn't reacting.

Lucy placed the file she'd been working on on the pile of files she'd processed in the past hours and stood up. The screen showed the website of the Gressenheller University of London, office hours of some Professor Layton. Lucy frowned. Some relative of Alfendi?

His cup was still filled to the brim. He hadn't touched it.

“Alfendi?” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She'd expected him to flinch, but he slowly turned his head towards her. He looked tired. Tired and... _sad_. “It's late. We should go home, continue work tomorrow. Florence will have new information by then.”

“Hm, yes, you should do that,” he muttered glancing at the screen again.

“You too.”

He abruptly stood up which forced Lucy to take a step back. “I still have some work to do. Go home, Baker.” Al sounded not as snappish as he usually would have. Lucy watched how he switched his lab coat for his blue coat.

“You know you can always talk to me.”

He stopped in his tracks and turned towards her.

“You don't have to, 'course. But I'm here. Like, not always, but, ya know, you can phone me.”

“I don't need your help, Baker!”

Lucy sighed. “I know. But you could just have said thanks, ya know?” She knew it wasn't easy, whatever he was going through at the moment. She just wanted to help.

Alfendi blinked once, twice, before he turned on his heel and left.

Lucy sighed again before she started to clean up the office a bit, opened the windows to let in some fresh air. It was positively chaotic here and she didn't mind at all, but she couldn't stand if it was dirty. Used cups and glasses and plates from take-away, full ashtrays, crumpled papers. She brought everything to the kitchen a few doors away to put it in the dishwasher. Alfendi could clean his ashtrays himself, she wouldn't touch that filthy thing. When she came back to grab her stuff and leave, too, she stopped abruptly. Alfendi was sitting with his back against the couch where Lucy had been sitting this afternoon and his legs stretched out in front of him. His red hair glowed warmly in the yellow light of the little lamp next to the couch. He hadn't bothered to switch on the main light.

“It's cold,” he complained like a child that had refused to wear a thicker jacket and was freezing now.

Lucy closed the door behind her, then the windows. She stood there for a moment before she sat down cross-legged in front of him. “Thought you had something else to do?”

“Yes.”

Lucy waited patiently. She was a lot better at that than him, and while he was stubborn, she knew he would give in at some point. He wanted something.

“Emmy was... a good friend of my father. They had worked together for a few years,” he began quietly, fidgeting with the fabric of his coat. He hadn't bothered to take it off. “They had parted ways for many years afterwards in which Emmy started working as a reported, travelling the world... they met again and kept in touch. Emmy would often look after me and my sister, cooking with us, helping with homework... though that was a fruitless job, my sister and I were out of her and frankly everyone's class. But she was there. Taught me martial arts when I said I wanted to become a police officer, played criminals with me, brought me and my sister to bed when out father would stay at work all night again... I never knew my mother and Emmy was there. She was... family. She was there when everyone else left.” He stopped, staring out of the window for a few heartbeats. Lucy didn't dare say anything. It was the first time Alfendi was sharing something personal, something truly personal. Something close to him.

“She kept sending us postcards from all over the world, and we tried out best to keep in touch but grew apart. After the... accident, I forgot about her. I don't know why. We both liked her once the memory came back. Fendi couldn't explain why the memory of her had been wiped away. I wanted to get back in touch but... but I never really did. We phoned a few times, but it was different. Today was the first time I have seen her in two years.”

So that was it.

“My father is professor at Gressenheller. I wanted to tell him about Emmy so he wouldn't have to find out through the papers. But... we don't exactly have the best relationship since... since some things happened.” He looked at Lucy. His eyes were gleaming, unsure, vulnerable. Biding.

Lucy guessed he didn't want any pity. She cleared her throat. “I would go to him. He wouldn't want to find out by reading it in the papers. I wouldn't want that at least.”

He nodded. “Yes. Probably...”

Lucy waited. There was something more. She tilted her head. He might have told her about this part of him, but he wouldn't bring himself to ask for help. “Would you... I could come with you if ya want. I mean we're partners after all and it's regarding the case...” She trailed off waiting for his answer.

“That would be... _good_.”

Lucy smiled. “Awesome. Then let's go!” She clapped her hands and jumped up. “Some fresh air and a bit movement will do us some good! We've been sitting in here all day!” She reached for her jacket, her hat and her scarf. By the time she was dressed, Alfendi had managed to stand up. He was a bit slow today, but Lucy understood. The day was a lot to take in for anyone but especially him.

They left the Yard in silence and decided to walk to Gressenheller. It wasn't too far away after all, only twenty minutes. The city was still bustling, people were strolling the city, doing Christmas shopping. It was cold but a festive atmosphere filled the air. The holidays weren't too far away now. There wouldn't be any snow this year like last year and the year before that and the year before that. She hadn't been to any Christmas market yet.

She wanted to ask what he was doing on Christmas, but it seemed somehow wrong given the current situation. Alfendi held the door open for Lucy to enter when they had arrived.

“Wow. I've never been inside of a university.” She looked around amazedly. “Do you know where your father's office is?”

He nodded shortly. “Of course. I spent a lot of time here when I was younger.”

“Staying in your father's office after school?”

He shot her a glare but smirked. “ _Studying_.”

“ _Studying_?!”

“Yep. Graduated school when I was fifteen, started studying here until I was old enough to start at the police,” he explained smugly. Way too smugly.

“What did you study?”

“Several things. Went to biology lectures, criminology, chemistry, psychology... my sister dragged me to some of her horrible literature and philosophy lectures. I never graduated in anything before you ask.” 

“Wow. That's just... wow.”

Alfendi looked at her quizzically and blinked. “You know you say that out loud?”

“Uhm, yes?” Lucy huffed. “But it is quite amazing. Brilliant. How much information is stored in your brain?” She beamed at him and rose an eyebrow when he gave her a shy smile.

“Thank you. That's not what people usually say.”

She'd heard that before. She tilted her head. “What do they say?”

He shrugged. “That I'm arrogant, a smartarse, psycho, eager to please, that I should piss off...”

“That's horrible!” Lucy exclaimed. She couldn't believe how nonchalantly he was talking about all these things he had been called.

“It's always been like that. I'm used to it.”

Lucy shook her head vehemently. “You shouldn't be. It's quite astounding and admirable. _You_ are quite astounding, really.”

He smiled as they stopped in front of a door. “Thank you,” he said softly. They looked at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat and smirked. “But it might be better to refrain from the hyping compliments as I don't want to give my father wrong hints about our... _relationship_.” Then, he knocked.

Lucy, of course, hadn't missed the reference and blushed immediately crossing her arms in front of her chest when the door opened.

“Hello, who... Alfendi? Alfendi, I didn't expect you! Do come in, please. Oh, and who are you, Miss?”

“I'm-”

“This is Lucy, my assistant,” Alfendi cut her short and let himself fall onto the couch in the middle of the office. “We need to talk.”

Lucy took the man's offered hand. “DC Lucy Baker, Alfendi's assistent,” she introduced herself properly. “Nice to meet ya, Sir.”

He looked nice. Old already, his face was full of wrinkled and streaks of grey looked out from under his top hat. An interesting piece of clothing. He wore a fitting brown suit with an orange dress shirt underneath.

He returned her smile. “Professor Hershel Layton, I am Alfendi's father. It is quite the pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Baker. I don't often get to meet Alfendi's friends.”

“Yes, because you frankly don't care,” they heard Alfendi mutter under his breath.

“You know that is not true, my boy,” he scolded him lightly before he turned back to Lucy. “May I offer you some tea, Miss Baker? Alfendi? What does bring you here at this late hour? Please, Miss Baker, make yourself comfortable.” He gestured towards the couch before he headed towards the kettle. Lucy took in the office. It was stuffed to the brim with all kinds of stuff: files, folders, books, archaeologic stuff... was that a skull? A desk was placed beneath the window at the other end of the room and was as cluttered as the rest of the office. Lucy could barely make out the carpet that covered a part of the wooden floor. It was positively messy. The scent of tea was omnipresent. She felt immediately comfortable here. It was like the Mystery Room.

“We have come with some news. I wanted to tell you personally before you'd find it out any other way,” Alfendi said leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees and flat hands against each other and beneath his chin.

 _What had he just said about not wanting to give his father wrong hints about our relationship?_ , Lucy thought when she saw how the professor's gaze went from Alfendi to Lucy and back to Alfendi.

He groaned. “God, why is everyone so dumb?” he muttered under his breath. Lucy knew he hadn't meant for anyone to hear it. He ran his hands through his messy red hair. Fendi was saliently absent Lucy noticed. “We're not a couple! It's about a... a case I'm currently working on.”

She eyed him carefully as he fell silent. He didn't continue, only thanked his father for the tea. The man raised his eyebrows. Lucy couldn't quite make out what their relationship was like. Not the best, that much was clear.

“Yes? A case?” the Professor started off but Alfendi remained silent, only stared in his tea. Lucy was about to speak up when he lifted his head.

“One of the victims... we found her today, it was... Emmy.”

Even to Lucy who had no connection to Emmeline the room's temperature seemed to drop by a few degrees.

Alfendi's father didn't say anything for a long time. Then, “She was a... a victim?”

“Murdered,” Alfendi spat out. “Strangled from behind, then arranged like she'd given up.” He cleared his throat, and the colour of his hair switched from to a dull purple. “Do you know if this can still have to do with Targent? If yes, I need you to check in with _him_. _I_ need to interrogate him. We currently have a set of murders she fits into and I need to know if I have to check the former members. I... I don't really know where to start searching for the murderer,” he admitted.

Lucy was quite confused. “Sorry, but... _Targent_?”

Alfendi looked over. “That's a rather long story. I'll tell you later.” His gaze intensified when he saw her doubtful expression. “Promise.”

Opposite from them, Professor Layton smiled despite the bad news he had just received.


	9. Prof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He put his hands into his pockets. “Emmy always teased me I would become a Professor, too, because I’ve been spending so much time at Gressenheller.”  
> Lucy smiled gently. “Did you? I mean did you ever want to become a professor?”  
> He shot her a glance. “Please, Baker. I’m an atrocious teacher.” He said it without a trace of amusement or pity. Neutral. He was just stating a fact.   
> “I think you’re doing a good job… Prof.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you're doing fine!  
> I may present you the next chapter ^^ this one is a bit of a filler and to explain some things (see some more Lucifendi if you squint (you might not have to squint so much)) since the story is about to really set off next chapter! ^^  
> Have a good day/night wherever you are! 
> 
> Melina
> 
> PS: I'm also trying to write Lucy better but I do not have a lot of ideas how to write a Yorkshire accent though I did some research on it. If you know any better, please don't hesitate to let me know!!

Chapter 8

Prof

When they stepped outside of the university, Lucy’s head was spinning. She couldn’t quite believe what she had just heard.

“Wow!” she exclaimed for the at last 20th time while they were making their way back to the Yard. Or rather to Lucy’s home because Alfendi didn’t want her to go home alone when it was dark and late and insisted on accompanying her. Lucy had rolled her eyes and retorted that she went home alone from work every day but Alfendi had only shot her a glance and gone ahead. Lucy had followed with a sigh and a smile. She knew by now when not to fight with him.

“Wow. I can’t believe that. Your dad is quite something. I mean… why isn’t there a book series about him? ‘The Great Adventures of Professor Layton’? Or, like… Oh, a game series! Like… ‘Professor Layton and the Azran Legacy’! Where your character would fly around t’world and search for mysteries and puzzles! I’d so play that! I can’t believe you dad was involved in that. It was all over the news! Or the Golden Garden! That’s like THE archaeologic finding of’t century! Or the ruins with the mask! And the Gentleman! That could be ‘Professor Layton and the Masked Gentleman’! Or-“

“Yes, Lucy, it is all quite astounding,” he cut off her excited babbling, “but don’t forget why we were there. Targent.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Lucy immediately calmed down and cleared her throat. She just couldn’t help getting excited. “That’s just as sick. You grandfather is the head of a criminal organisation. Your life really could be a book series.”

He laughed softly. “But only almost. I will visit him as soon as possible.”

Lucy nodded. “Do you think it was him? Or Targent?”

He was silent for a moment. She watched how he tucked a strand of fiery red hair behind his ear. “To be completely honest? No. Targent did murder but never like this. They were quiet and efficient. I studied the files. Emmy might fit in but not the other two.” He put his hands into his pockets. “Emmy always teased me I would become a Professor, too, because I’ve been spending so much time at Gressenheller.”

Lucy smiled gently. “Did you? I mean did you ever want to become a professor?”

He shot her a glance. “Please, Baker. I’m an atrocious teacher.” He said it without a trace of amusement or pity. Neutral. He was just stating a fact. 

“I think you’re doing a good job… _Prof_.”

His reaction was an immediate snort. “God, stop that, Baker. The title of a professor makes me sound like my father.”

“I think ya’re a lot like your dad,” Lucy replied. “I mean, just look at the messy office!” She grinned when he snorted. She knew he was going through a lot right now, so seeing him laugh was a good thing even if it wasn’t a full laugh.

“I cannot deny that,” he conceded, “but I am nothing like my father. Nothing.”

The light atmosphere was gone. Lucy was confused. She had already guessed from what she’d seen that Alfendi and his father didn’t have the best relationship but that it was that bad… but Lucy understood. She didn’t like being compared to her mother, too.

“But you would have made a fine professor,” she changed back to the previous topic. He rolled his eyes at that. She grinned. “Prof.”

“I’m not a professor!”

“But a bloody good teacher.”

“I doubt that.”

“So, you wanna say that I’m lying? Me, Lucy Baker??”

“No! I-“

“So, Prof it is then!”

“Lucy Baker.”

“Oh, we’re at full names now, Prof?” she teased and gave him a wink while she searched for her keys. They stopped in front of her door.

“You will not call me that at work tomorrow, or I might have to fire you,” she heard him say while she unlocked her door.

Lucy turned around and grinned. “Get home safely. Sleep well, Prof!” she laughed before she shut the door close.

“I’m serious, Baker, I’ll fire you!” she could still hear him through the closed door. And she heard his laugh subside while she ascended the stairs, a grin still on her face.

*

The next day wasn’t as light anymore. Alfendi put everything he had into finding the murderer of Emmeline and the others. Suspects were brought in and Al was close to breaking something whenever they came in with a lawyer or refused to say anything without them. In reverse, he got quieter when they were alone in the Mystery Room which made Lucy worry. He told her not to, but when had that sentence ever worked in history? Lucy tried to support him in little ways, listening when he wanted to talk, going to the mortuary so he didn’t have to see Emmeline, talking to Blaine because Alfendi apparently couldn’t stand him, especially Al. Fendi was… not so fond of him, Lucy would put it. Polite but chilly. Something she never normally saw in Fendi.

Emmeline’s funeral was on the 21st December. It was raining; icy but not yet cold enough for snow. It was never cold enough for snow. Alfendi had attended it, his red hair tied into a neat ponytail, not a single strand falling into his face. He had come to the office in the morning, left for the funeral and came back afterwards. He had looked shitty and been soaked to the skin, but Lucy hadn’t dared send him home. He wouldn’t have gone anyway. He had swapped the dress shirt and his suit jacket for one of the blue and red sweaters, of which he kept one in the office, and a pair of black jeans. It had been odd seeing him in that with his hair being fiery red, but Lucy had simply placed a cup of steaming hot tea on his desk and updated him of what she had done in his absence, and they had continued working on the Emmeline case.

Emmeline’s funeral had come and gone like Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Lucy had spent both with friends. Alfendi hadn’t told a lot about what he had done but rather known about her holidays. He had been very interested why Lucy hadn’t spent Christmas with her parents. Well, how did you tell your boss that you didn’t get along with your parents because they were abusive arseholes? Well, her mother at least.

You didn’t. She had visited her father on the 26th about which she had told Alfendi and then she had immediately switched to New Year’s Eve when she had taken a cup or two too much and ended up on her friend’s couch like most of the party guests. One had even fallen asleep on the carpet in the bathroom and it had taken several people to get him away from there. Alfendi had chuckled and said he didn’t know she was drinking so much alcohol to which Lucy had retorted that she normally didn’t while her heart had been racing in the hope, he wouldn’t inquire her further about her parents. No one could tell her that he hadn’t noticed how she had kept changing the subject, but he hadn’t asked her further, and Lucy had relaxed. She had missed the Mystery Room. Her friends had been very interested in her new job and her new boss, and Lucy had been happy to talk about it.

Getting back into the flow of work was easy. Finding their murderer wasn’t. They still didn’t have any idea, no traces or hints. The media was already gossiping viciously about them, and Al was, by now, ready to punch every reporter they encountered or threaten to cut out their tongue. So far, Lucy had been able to keep him from doing so but even her patience was growing short. It was worrying her. How could the killer be so skilled that they could stay out of their reach for so long? They hadn’t murdered often yet but the brutality the killer was acting with was what agitated them and what kept the media talking about it.

“I don’t get it. HOW can we still not have a single clue about the murderer? HOW is he doing that?” Alfendi was muttering things under his breath rapidly. Lucy had given up long ago to try to answer the questions because she knew he didn’t listen. He wasn’t even speaking to her until he called her by her name.

Lucy looked up when he flung himself onto the couch and placed his folded hands beneath his chin. He was thinking now and not to be disturbed. She turned back to the computer.

“How, Baker? Tell me, how does he do it?”

Well, so much to the paperwork. “No idea, Prof.”

He turned his head towards her but didn’t say anything. He had given up on trying to correct her about the nickname. She imagined he had even grown to like it. He might. A bit. Maybe.

He groaned. “This is so frustrating! Is that what people always feel? I don’t like it.”

Lucy giggled. He sounded a bit like a child. “Yes, it is. It’s a completely normal feeling, ya know?” She got up to lean against the other side of her desk and look at the wall behind the couch where Alfendi had placed photographs of the victims, reports of the police, pictures of the crime scenes and so on. It looked like the wall you saw in every crime movie or TV series. Alfendi had placed some pictures of other people she didn’t know, too. When she had asked him, he had called the people “markers”. He knew London and its people inside out; they were as familiar to him as his heartbeat. He had said when one of these persons moved or acted suspiciously, he knew that something was going on. He suspected that they had no idea of who their killer was, what kind of person they were yet. Which didn’t make this easier at all.

Lucy squinted at the wall, then at Alfendi who was still watching her. “What makes you so sure it’s a man? You always speak of ‘him’. It could be a woman.”

“Urgh, Baker, not that again!” he groaned and ran both hands through his hair. He got up swiftly to point at different things on the wall. “Here, look. The first murder, the –“

“Yeah, we’ve gone through all of that already,” Lucy interrupted him, something she wouldn’t have dared do so a while ago. “But why are you so sure?”

He sent her a glare and pointed at the wall. “We’ve gone through all of that already,” he repeated her words mockingly. Lucy rolled her eyes while he flung himself into the couch again. “The cases are related. We just have to find out how. Why are they related? Where is the connection? Why can’t we make it out?” He got up again, pacing through the room. Lucy watched. He stopped, looked at her. “How?”

She shrugged and sighed. To be honest, she was just as worried although he would never admit to being worried. He was Alfendi Layton, he didn’t worry. “No idea, Prof.”

The days went like that. Interviewing suspect, working on cases, doing paperwork, the murderer always in the back of their mind. There was no escaping this case. Al was quieter than usual. The death of Emmeline was running harder on him than he would ever admit.

Most days when Lucy would arrive at work, Alfendi would already be there, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of porridge (Lucy was surprised to _actually_ see him eat. He tended to forget that while on an important case.), squinting at the wall in front of him, his mind probably going a thousand miles a minute.

She often saw him stare at the photograph of the letters Emmy had written on the floor with her blood. When she had asked him why he suddenly wasn’t so sure anymore, he had shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know any other word that would fit but… maybe Emmy meant something different. I’m searching through my memories, but I can’t find anything.”

“Maybe it’s not English? Did Emmeline speak other languages?”

“Several. She was a talent at that,” he had muttered, eyes on the photograph, mind somewhere completely else. “Call her Emmy. Please. Only Bronev called her Emmeline.” Their eyes had met then until a crimson red flick of hair had fallen into his face. She had never seen Al so vulnerable.

“’course. Sorry, Prof, I didn’t know that.”

“It’s alright, Baker.”

They had checked every language Emmy had spoken but no other word had really fitted. But, then again, they also didn’t know why “girl” should be the word they were searching for. When Alfendi had been able to visit his grandfather in jail to interrogate him it had turned out that Leon Bronev, like Alfendi had already suspected, hadn’t known anything. He had actually seemed quite shocked when Alfendi had told him about Emmy’s death he had told Lucy. She and Alfendi had had a huge fight over whether she would accompany him to see Leon Bronev or not. While Lucy had insisted on going with him since she was his assistant and it was their case, Alfendi had barely even listened to her and finally said he didn’t want anyone he cared about close to that man. That had effectively caused Lucy to shut up and make the compromise that he had to tell her every little detail as soon as he came back. Not that it had helped anything. It hadn’t been Targent. And while Alfendi didn’t trust Leon Bronev a tad, he believed that the man did say the truth this time.

To say it boldly, they had no clue. It was like the murderer didn’t exist. No fingerprints, no hair, no dander, absolutely nothing. Even the Commissioner, a very patient man, was starting to get nervous.

Lucy found herself in different offices with increased frequency. She hoped that the change of environment would help her mind to work, or that other people could stir something in her mind she hadn’t thought of yet, but it was of no use. Even Lucy was beginning to get frustrated, an emotion that had settled within the Prof around Christmas. None of them understood why the murderer took his sweet time. Alfendi had said that he was most likely playing with them, probably watching them; he might even be a person from their social environment, he had mentioned at some point. They had subsequently checked family and friends of everyone in the Yard. Lucy still shivered at that thought; but whatever Alfendi had found out about her, he hadn’t lost a word yet. Lucy was more than grateful for that.

While Lucy was getting more and more frustrated with the situation, there was one good thing to it: her relationship with Alfendi increased considerably, even to a point where people around the Yard would notice it too. They would go out for lunch together, something Alfendi had last done far before the accident. He seemed a bit more balanced, a bit more down to earth, a bit nicer. Hilda had mentioned it to Lucy one day while they had been sitting in the break room to have lunch together and waited for Justin. “You know, Alfendi seems… better since you’re here. He’s changed. You changed him a bit.”

“Really?” Lucy had tilted her head. “I don’t think anyone can change people, they can only change when they want to and do it themselves.”

“And what,” Hilda had sat down, “does that tell us about Alfendi and you?”

Lucy had never answered that because Justin had appeared in the door that moment, effectively interrupting their talk. It had never come up again afterwards.

Lucy was remembering that talk quite often when she was alone with the Prof and had time to look at him without him noticing. Had he changed? Their relationship had changed, yes, because they had both worked for it. They were becoming a team. Of course, people changed when they changed a relationship because they became aware how the other reacted to them and adjusted. But had the Prof changed? He was certainly still the aloof mastermind who was always a step ahead and rolled his eyes when someone wasn’t as quick as him, who could talk a mile a minute and noticed even the tiniest piece of evidence. He still did his speeches but only when no one was around. Lucy guessed so at least.

She suggested he wouldn’t appreciate it if she compared him to Sherlock Holmes, but her mind had drawn the parallel long ago.

The days were blurring into one another with their case spluttering to halt. It was immensely frustrating. On this cold day at the end of January, Lucy found herself in Blaine’s office like so often in the past days. Hilda had thrown her out, Florence was at home because her sickness had gotten worse, and she hadn’t dared go to Justin. The Prof didn’t like it when she lounged around in Blaine’s office, but Lucy had long stopped listening to that. He didn’t like Blaine, Lucy did. He didn’t have to be here. End of the discussion.

“Still no success?” Blaine had asked when she had come in and slumped onto the chair opposite of his desk and him just seconds ago.

Lucy sighed heavily and placed her chin on the edge of the desk. “Nope. Absolutely none. And he’s positively frustrated today, and I’m definitely not gonna stay in’t office then.”

Blaine nodded. “Completely understandable. Can I offer you some tea, Lucy?”

“That would be nice! Do you have a solution for our case, too?”

She laughed weakly as she watched Blaine make his way to the kettle in his office. He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I cannot offer you that. Plus, I don’t think Alfendi would appreciate it.”

“I’d make him appreciate it”, she joked while the kettle came to a boil. Blaine poured two cups of fruit tea and handed her one. It reminded Lucy of late nights with her father. “There you go.”

“Ta!” She smiled as she took the cup, now sitting in her chair properly. Blain sat opposite from her again with his own cup. Between sips he rummaged through the files on his desk. It was only a bit messy. Lucy was rather surprised because chaos never ruled in Blaine’s office, it didn’t even exist. “Difficult case?” Since she was cooped up in the Mystery Room all day and occupied with her own cases, she barely got to know what her colleagues were working on.

“No, not particularly… Just a few deadlines for reports and such which I forgot,” he admitted with a contrite smile.

“Oh. Can I help ya somehow?”

He shook his head. “No but I thank you very much for the offer. I still have a few days.”

Lucy placed her crossed arms on the edge of the desk and laid her head onto them. “What cases are ya currently working on? Maybe it will give me a fresh insight into my own,” she muttered.

Blaine chuckled. “Like the last times? Well, let me see…”

Lucy smirked.

He told her about a robbery, a missing boy, several parking violations (Why couldn’t people just follow rules?!) and, the most interesting thing, a missing clock hand of Big Ben.

“Wait, that’s a serious case? I thought that was a joke around’t Yard!” Lucy exclaimed, jumping up in her seat.

“No, it’s rather real, I assure you. Can you tell me how someone can steal the clock hand of Big ben without anyone noticing? Because I’m at my wit’s end.”

“Nope. I mean that thing must weigh a ton! How would anyone even get it down from there?”

“That’s the question. We got so many anonymous hints, one said to check the Lipski brothers. You could know Aleks, he owns a little bakery down Chancer Lane. I don’t know what a confectioner would want with a clock hand of Big Ben, but, you see, people are ingenious…”

They discussed some other rather absurd possibilities and funny anonymous hints for a little while until Blaine had enough. The case was too strange for him, he claimed. “Just right for us then,” Lucy smirked. But it vanished rather quickly. “You don’t happen to be on’t case of the Ivy Family?”

Blaine shook his head. “No, I don’t. But I believe Justin is working on that case. He spoke rather agitated about a Mr Ivy being under strong suspicion of domestic violence. Why do you ask? Do you know the family?”

“They were witnesses on our last crime scene. I asked t’ Commissioner to have someone tek a look at them,” Lucy explained quickly.

“Ah. I heard about your last case; it treated Alfendi rather roughly? What is going on?”

Lucy crossed her arms and leaned back when she saw Blaine’s interested gaze. It could be worry for a colleague, but Lucy knew that gaze in and out. She felt relegated to her childhood and suddenly didn’t want to be in Blaine’s office anymore. “I don’t know. We just do our work. Eh, I think I have to go back now, Alfendi will be wondering where I’m at. Ta for the tea!”

She left the office as quickly as she had entered it. The only thing she took with her was the curious incident with the missing clock hand. She wondered if the confectioner really was the culprit. But what should a confectioner want with a clock hand of Big Ben?


	10. One for Sorrow, Two for Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One for sorrow...  
> Two for joy...  
> Could it be...?  
> Panic overtook her. Panic was a feeling Lucy had never liked and felt way too often when she had been a child. Long days of sitting in the church and listening to their stories mixed with the image of their previous victims, his laugh mixed with Alfendi’s…  
> And very suddenly, Lucy knew that she had to get back to Alfendi. She had never told him and she knew he wouldn’t make her. He would accept whatever she said. He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Do you still know me?  
> Yeah, I resurfaced. Let me tell you, exam season is no fun but I handed in my last exam yesterday so I'm freeeeeeeeeee now :D  
> I actually had this chapter prepared so I could upload something during exam season but I totally forgot about it. I hope you like this chapter. And also, we're already halfway through the story! 
> 
> I hope everyone is doing fine. See you next chapter!  
> Melina

Chapter 9

One for Sorrow, Two for Joy

When Lucy came back to the Mystery Room and saw the state of mess it was in, she only sighed. Papers were flying around everywhere, files were scattered across the floor; and Alfendi was sitting on the couch backwards, his long legs hanging over the back of the couch, his head almost touching the ground. His face had taken on an alarmingly deep shade of red, very similar to his hair. Lucy had only left him about an hour ago, but she didn’t wonder anymore how he managed to get himself and the office in such a state in such little time. “I’m not going to be the one to clean this up,” she merely declared while she cleared her desk chair from files and a used mug (Hers from this morning. How did it end up there?) to sit down.

Alfendi opened his eyes, looking positively annoyed. He hated cleaning up. “Yeah, I’ll do it,” he muttered, his mind clearly already being somewhere else.

“Any new insights?” Lucy asked and was immediately greeted with a glare.

“What do you think, Baker?” Al spat out. He sighed as his hair turned into a familiar dull shade of purple. “No, no new deductions. I feel like I cannot think anymore.”

“Ya might start with sittin’ upright, Prof. I think that ain’t a good position.”

Fendi lifted his head and looked around as if he hadn’t noticed the state he was in previously until Lucy had pointed it out. He tried changing his position but only ended up falling to the floor. His fall was cushioned by various files that were scattered across the floor, and Lucy chuckled. Fendi straightened his favourite red and blue striped pullover and gave her a smile. “We love to entertain you,” he commented as he made his way over to his own desk. The colour of his face was slowly returning to a much healthier shade.

“Oh, I don’t think Al likes t’ joke.”

“He does. He made it, in fact.”

They burst out laughing. It felt good. The atmosphere had been way too serious in here the past few days. Lucy guessed Alfendi was still mourning for Emmy which was completely understandable; but he didn’t like to talk about it. Lucy wondered if he had talked about Emmy with his father. Her gut told her no while her mind tried to reason he had to since it was his dad; but Lucy didn’t trust that voice.

Alfendi flung himself into his chair quite enthusiastically and reached for his cup. He took a sip before his brows suddenly furrowed and he slowly removed it from his mouth. He blinked and with a sceptical look at its content, he said, “I think that wasn’t this morning’s cup.”

Lucy watched how he carefully placed it back on his desk as if it could explode at any given moment before he looked at her. They were silent for a moment, neither of them knew what to say. “Prof, did ya know,” Lucy finally broke the silence while she pulled a huge file towards her, “that someone stole one of Big Ben’s clock hands?”

“I heard of it. It must be quite a view, the Elizabeth Tower with one clock hand missing. Who is on the case?”

“Blaine. He told me about it earlier. I thought it was just a rumour, I didn’t think that case really existed!”

“Dartwright,” Alfendi growled. His purple hair was as quickly replaced as his good mood. “What were you doing in his office? I told you he’s a bad influence. Just like Sniffer.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. Not that again. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “And luckily, I’m my own person and can go wherever I want,” she replied a tad annoyed.

After a second, Al obviously realized he had said something not so appropriate. He cleared his throat and said, “Of course. Forgive me.” It sounded not entirely sincere, but she knew it was because Fendi had just scolded him in their head. He was annoyed at him, not Lucy. Fendi had told her so once.

Lucy returned her attention back to the huge file which contained all information of the case so far while Alfendi was staring at the wall whose contains increased steadily. He had taken off some of the “markers” but included twice as many new ones. They were still fumbling around in the dark.

“Have you ever read _A Study in Scarlett_?” Alfendi asked unexpectedly. He was usually just staring at the wall without saying a word.

Lucy looked up from her file. “The story of Doyle? Yes, I think I did. Why?”

“Emmy’ case reminds me of it,” he muttered. He hurried to explain when he saw Lucy’s irritated gaze. “Emmy wrote something next to her with her blood while she was dying; in the story, the murderer had used the blood of his victim to write something on the wall. In the story, it was a word in another language, “Rache”; _rage_ in English. So maybe…” But Lucy would never find out what might be because Alfendi was already so deep back in his mind.

“So maybe?” she repeated his words, urging him on to keep talking.

“I think our murderer likes detective stories.”

 _Alright_. If it had been anyone else around the hard, they would probably have laughed at Alfendi. And while Lucy had no idea where that conclusion had come from in Alfendi’s brain, she was more than willing to roll with it and sure he had a good reason to think so.

“That must mean our murderer has a higher education, and he’s most likely to be in the upper class. Well read, educated, probably blending in with the rest of his neighbourhood and well-liked by them. Same with the colleagues at work probably. It fits in with what we have so far.” He muttered some more under his breath that Lucy didn’t understand but she could feel his excitement and her own.

“So, that means there are more cases of Sherlock Holmes that our murderer followed? Does he try to be like Sherlock Holmes? Or Moriarty?” She rounded her desk and hoped onto it. She could always think better this way, sitting on a desk, and Alfendi luckily didn’t mind. Lucy guessed he was even glad to see someone had some weird habits just like him. “Or is he trying to stage the cases?”

Al turned towards her with a confused expression she usually only ever saw on Fendi’s face. “I don’t exactly recall Sherlock Holmes wandering around the city and murdering people.”

“Well, of course not; he wouldn’t go without Dr Watson.”

Al simply looked at her for a few seconds before his hair turned into purple and Fendi burst out laughing like he had done this already before inside their head and just waited to come forward. Lucy joined in quickly. They laughed till their stomachs hurt, Fendi had slumped down on the couch and Lucy was brushing tears off her cheeks. It must be the constant tension and frustration, the long over hours and the little sleep finally starting to take a toll on the two of them; although Lucy usually had the impression that he was actually living here.

“I’m running on too little sleep,” Lucy eventually managed to say while she was still occupied trying not to fall off her desk. The situation was too… she didn’t really have a word for it. Obscure? Crazy? Messed up?

Alfendi who was sprawled across the couch took a deep breath and sent her a stupid smile. “I’m running on no sleep. What do you think, how long does it take until I start hallucinating the murderer? Do you think that might help?” He chuckled silently, his chest quivering but no sound left his mouth. His hair was a strange mix of purple and red.

Lucy tilted her head, suddenly serious again. “For how long exactly have you been up?”

“Not too long, don’t worry, Baker. Just a day. Or three.”

Lucy sighed. “You should try to sleep a bit more regularly. I know this case is important, especially since Emmy but you’re not helping anyone when you’re sleep-deprived. We need your mind.”

He continued his slightly disturbing chuckling. “You’re always worrying about me, Baker, that’s a bit cute.” He yawned extensively, stretched like a cat that had just had an extremely pleasant nap and jumped up. Hs red hair was a mess. “Anyway, back to the case.”

“Yeah, ya’re right, Prof,” Lucy agreed in a heartbeat. She jumped from her desk only to lean against it. “So, you think t’ murderer’s pattern is from the Sherlock Holmes stories? I didn’t know Holmes encountered a blood bath once…”

“He… didn’t,” Alfendi muttered. “He didn’t. That’s not our pattern. That the murderer likes detective stories merely fits into what we already deduced and confirms it even further.”

Lucy’s usual optimism was slowly but surely fading and being replaced by increasing frustration. How could it be that they couldn’t find any new clues? Alfendi had an absolutely remarkable history at Scotland Yard; there was no case he hadn’t been able to solve. How could it be that they were still treading water??

When a huge yawn left Lucy’s mouth some time later, Alfendi composed himself to send her home. “You should go home, too.”

Al smirked at her. “Please, Baker. You admitted yourself once you thought I lived here. But you go home. I can’t have my assistant sleep-deprived.”

Lucy, who was rather tired, didn’t complain. She knew it was fruitless. If Alfendi didn’t want to leave, she wouldn’t be able to make him. So, she grabbed her winter coat, her scarf and her bag, waved him goodbye and was out the door.

The hall and staircase were empty. It was later than she had thought. Two police officers were standing behind the reception desk. When Lucy waved at them, they waved back enthusiastically. Normally, she would have stopped and chatted with them for a few moments, but she was too tired tonight. The case took a heavy toll on her although she really liked her work here, especially since she was getting along better with Alfendi.

Lucy rummaged around her bag in search for her headphones while she pushed open the door. Where had she put those things? The cold night air of January immediately hurt her face and hands. She had forgotten her gloves this morning but luckily, her coat had deep pockets that would keep her hands warm. With a triumphal smile, Lucy pulled the tangled headphones out of her bag while she made her way down the few stairs. One would have to invent headphones that never tangled themselves, she thought. She had just hidden her chin in the high collar of her jacket when her phone went off somewhere in her bag.

Lucy dropped the headphones as she searched for her phone. Thanks to the illuminated screen, she had an easier time than with the headphones. She pulled it out with a smile that immediately fell when she saw the caller’s ID. She accepted the call with a sigh. “Hello mother.”

“Lucy, my angel!” Her mother’s voice was too loud and too happy in her ears. “How are you, my angel? I never ever hear from you, it’s like you vanished!”

Lucy gritted her teeth at the nickname as she leaned against a light post. “There is a lot going on at work at the moment. I have to be there a lot,” she replied.

“Oh angel, make sure you don’t overwork yourself. You know the only work acceptable is-“

“Mother, is it something important? I’m currently on my way home and it is freezing,” she interrupted her. She knew it wasn’t the nicest thing to do but she was freezing and tired and had absolutely no desire to continue this talk.

“You’re still out? When it’s dark? Lucia, who knows what could happen to you!”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Mother, I’m 26 and a Detective. I think I can look after myself.” She bit down onto her lip hard. “Don’t worry,” she added after a moment in an attempt to calm her and sound nicer.

 _Honour your father and your mother_ , a stern voice Lucy had tried to push away so hard hissed at her.

“I will always worry, my angel, because you are my beloved daughter,” her mother said sweetly. “Will you let me know once you get home? Yes?”

“Yes, mother, I will,” Lucy muttered. She had learned long ago that giving in was easier than fighting. “Have a nice evening.”

“You two, my angel! And don’t forget, one for sorrow, two for joy!” She rung off, and Lucy slowly put down her phone. She gritted her teeth as the same voice as before recited the stupid rhyme she had been taught right form the cradle in her head over and over.

_One for sorrow…_

The phone calls with her mother barely ever lasted more than five minutes but they always left her emotionally drained. She wondered if it would ever be different, but she guessed not. If nothing had changed within the eight years since she had left home, why should it change now?

_Two for joy…_

She would probably have those lines stuck in her head all night. She sighed. So much to getting a good night’s sleep. Lucy sighed defeated. She would probably be more tired than Alfendi tomorrow. Maybe the music would be able to drown out the thoughts of back then. Lucy bent down to collect her headphones from the ground.

_Three for a girl…_

Lucy froze halfway. Suddenly, she didn’t have birds on a fence in mind like she had always had but Emmy lying on the ground, the slurred bloody letters on the ground. Girl…

 _Could it be…?_ Lucy didn’t dare think so. _What this would mean…!_

Panic overtook her. She flinched, her headphones forgotten, and looked around hectically. There was a strange sound resonating in her ears. The street was empty except for a couple that came her way. But they looked like they were too much into each other to even notice her. Or was it just another trick…?

Panic was a feeling Lucy had never liked and felt way too often when she had been a child. Long days of sitting in the church and listening to their stories mixed with the image of their previous victims, his laugh mixed with Alfendi’s…

And very suddenly, Lucy knew that she had to get back to Alfendi. She had never told him and she knew he wouldn’t make her. He would accept whatever she said. _He had to_.

As if stung by an adder, Lucy turned on the spot and rushed back into the Yard. Her steps were too loud in the empty halls; the two officers she had just bid goodbye watched her funnily. Lucy wasn’t sure but she thought one of them called after her, but her mind was fixated on one thing. She was switching back into that mood she had taught herself as a child when panic would threaten to overtake her. One step. One step. Another step. _Mystery Room. Alfendi. Rhyme. Emmy. What comes next?_

_Four for a boy…_

Lucy jumped down the stairs with few steps. Her ankles hurt from the impact as she leaped the last five stairs at a time. She rushed down the dimly lit floor and opened the door without even consider knocking.

Alfendi was sitting in the middle of the floor, his eyes focused on the wall. He didn’t even flinch when Lucy had barged in like a madwoman, he just turned his head and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Baker, what are you doing here? I told you to g-”

“No! I mean I… the case and…” Lucy continued rambling incomplete syllables. Her mind was running, her hands shaking and forming an entire thought was far from what seemed possible to her right now. Al seemed to notice that something was wrong. He rushed to get up and take her by the arms gently to guide her to the couch to sit. When she looked up, she met his worried gaze.

“Lucy, what happened? You’ve been gone for barely five minutes.” He crouched down in front of her. His hair was purple now with just a hint of red. He took her hands to keep her from gesturing wildly to stress her senseless babbling. “You’re freezing! Lucy, look at me. Take a deep breath. In. Good, now hold it. Just like me. And out. Good. And again. Just breath with me.”

Alfendi’s calm voice and behaviour slowly made its way into Lucy’s panicking mind and trembling body. The feeling wasn’t new to her, but she hadn’t had a panic attack in years. She forced herself to ignore the buzzing noise in her ears and instead listen to Alfendi’s breathing and to follow suit. It definitely worked better than when she had done this on her own. She was shivering violently and was freezing despite her coat, the heating on and her hands between his.

“Can you tell me what happened? Did someone do something to you?”

She shook her head. “No, no one did… I… my mother called and she said something that… the case…”

“What did your mother say? Something about our case?”

“No, no, no, it was… the rhyme… the…” The voice was back in her head. _Make it stop, please!_ She ripped her hands from Alfendi’s to claw at her hair. It had to stop! She felt her eyes getting wet and sueezed them shut violently. She couldn’t cry!

“Lucy!” She heard Alfendi’s voice as if it was far away, very far away. It echoed in her head and she flinched when she suddenly felt his hands gently taking hers. “Hey, Lucy. Lucy? Look at me. You don’t have to be afraid, it’s just us here. No one else. Okay?”

She was shivering. Tears were running down her face now. Why was this hitting her so hard? And why now?! In front of her _boss_?!

“What rhyme? Hey, Lucy, look at me. Come one, you can do this.” He squeezed her hand.

Lucy forced herself to look up despite the tears and form a proper sentence. “My… mother said something that reminded me of the case. It was a rhyme.”

“Okay. Good Lucy, well done.” He smiled. “Can you recall the rhyme? And can you tell me what it has to do with the case?”

She rubbed her face on her shoulder to get rid of the itching tears stains. She nodded. “Of course. One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl and four… Emmy was the third victim. And the letters and… I-I know it doesn’t make sense with the other two but it’s… I was…”

Alfendi squeezed her hands again. There was something in his eyes now, something she hadn’t seen before. _He believed her!_ He believed this could be the hint they had been waiting for! But that would mean…

Luckily, Alfendi spoke again before the panic could get its hands on Lucy again. “All right. That could indeed be. Does the rhyme continue? If yes, can you tell me how?”

Her mind was in a haze, but she would probably still be able to recall the rhyme when she was dead. She nodded. “Three for a girl and four for a boy. Five fir silver, six…” She fell silent when something else stirred in her mind. What was it? The memory wasn’t old. _Come on, Lucy!_

“Six for?” Alfendi tried to make her continue but she shook her head and shook it again when she remembered.

“A boy,” she whispered. “A boy! There is a missing boy! I heard it just today! There is a case with a missing boy! We have to find him, then we can find the murderer and – and-”

“A missing boy? Where did you hear that, Lucy? Come on, I know you know it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut while she soured through her brain for the information. Where had she heard that today? The smell of tea reached her nostrils and she heard herself laugh, _‘Wait, that’s a serious case? I thought that was a joke around t’ Yard!’_

Her eyes flew open and she stared at Alfendi who hadn’t taken his eyes of her. “Blaine,” she said clearly, trying to brush away the panic. “Blaine told me about it when I was in his office today. Is he still here?” She was about to jump up but Alfendi kept her where she was.

“No, he isn’t. But I will call him and I will call Commissioner Barton. You just stay here, alright? I will be right back, I promise. I won’t even leave the room, okay?”

 _Fendi is really good at that_ , Lucy found herself thinking when she nodded. _I guess Al would be overwhelmed. Or maybe not? I shouldn’t judge people_.

Lucy stared at her hands while Alfendi made the phone calls. His voice still sounded like it was coming from far away. The buzzing noise in her ears drowned out almost every other sound. Her thoughts were running but not in a good way. She tried not to let herself think about the possibility that it was really _them_ who were committing those murders… Her gaze flew to Alfendi. She would have to check this without him noticing. Maybe she could get a few days off. She knew she still had some unused vacation days left and countless accrued overtime hours to reduce. It really shouldn’t be a problem.

She prayed things would turn out differently than she feared they might.


	11. The Boy in the Blue Hoodie and the Grl with the Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a sister."  
> “Flora? The one who visited you last week? What about her?”  
> He shook his head. “No… I have another sister.”  
> Oh. That was new. He smiled sadly. “Her name was Katrielle. I told you about her, Emmy looked after us.”  
> Lucy barely dared ask what was on her mind. “It… was her name? What happened?”  
> Another deep breath. “We don’t know,” he finally said so quietly that a gust of wind could easily sweep it away, that the sound of a heartbeat or a breath could drown it out. “It’s a bit of a longer story,” he explained sidestepping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!   
> Sorry again for the long delay. Exam season came and I was working during the summer holidays.   
> I hope all of you are fine and school/university/work and life are going well for you and your family.   
> :)

Chapter 10 

The Boy in the Blue Hoodie and the Girl with the Hat

“Lucy. Lucy, wake up.”

Lucy was wide awake within a heartbeat and sat up so quickly that she almost knocked Alfendi with her head. He luckily jumped back just in time not to get hit. What was the time?

She remembered Alfendi making a few calls, a cup of tea, her taking off her coat and then there was nothing. She must have fallen asleep at some point. The sun hadn’t risen yet. And someone must have placed a blanket on her as she couldn’t remember taking it herself. It felt nice. “What is it? Did they find the boy? And when did I fall asleep? What’s t’ time?”

Alfendi chuckled and placed a soothing hand on her arm. “You fell asleep around two right before the Yard was suddenly flooded with people. I myself just came back here,” he answered. He hesitated for a moment. “We did find the boy.”

Lucy knew right then what that meant. “He’s dead, isn’t he? We were too slow, right?”

“Yes.” Alfendi took a deep breath and stroked a strand of his purple hair that had escaped his ponytail behind his ear. There were deep shadows beneath his eyes. “He’ll be here soon. Florence was already called, she’ll be here soon, too.”

“What time is it?”

“Just gone five. You didn’t sleep for very long. Do you want to go home? We can continue work in the morning.”

Lucy shook her head while she pushed the blanket off her body. “No, I’ll stay.” She rubbed her eyes and yawned. Alfendi seemed to be a bit worried but left her at it. She was just as stubborn as he was, he had realized that by now.

Silence stretched out between them, Lucy still sitting on the couch and playing with the fabric of the blanket and Alfendi leaning against his desk with his arms crossed. The clock on the wall should have made a sound but it didn’t. Lucy’s mind was running again, with the rhyme, the boy, the voice, her mother, _what if they really did it…_

“If I may ask,” Alfendi began, making her flinch slightly. He was eyeing her closely. “How did you know that rhyme? I haven’t heard it before.”

Lucy froze. “I, eh… it’s an old children’s rhyme. My mother used it often. It’s, eh, kinda like her catchphrase. ‘ _Don’t forget, Lucia, one for sorrow, two for joy_!’” she imitated her mother and for a second, a horrible second, the atrocious possibility of being like her mother one day overcame Lucy. She could feel how all blood left hr face and her head got dizzy.

“Lucia?” Alfendi interrupted her fainting. She blinked confusedly.

“My name,” Lucy breathed, trying her best to stay calm. “Don’t act like you didn’t know it before. You have my file.” Well, then she could actually just tell him everything. She shivered despite the blanket.

He waved her statement off. “Barely looked at it. You’re DC Lucy Baker, that’s it.” Crossing his arms again, he added, “It’s a nice name.”

“Let’s not argue about that point.”

“Alright.”

Silence spread between them again. The first sunray fought its light through the darkness while each of them dwelled on her own thoughts. Lucy would rather have talked so she wouldn’t drown in her thoughts. She could hear people upstairs, many people, if she listened closely. She focused on that. Why was the Yard so busy anyway? No one ever was here that early except for the people who were working the night shift.

“What’s the rest of the rhyme?” It was again Alfendi who broke the silence.

Lucy looked up. Right, she had stopped halfway through at some point. She cleared her throat.

_“One for sorrow,  
two for joy,   
Three for a girl,   
and four for a boy.   
Five for silver,   
six for gold.   
And seven for a secret,   
never to be told.” _

He nodded along but didn’t say anything. The silence was buzzing in Lucy’s ears. “I-I know it doesn’t fit with the rest so far but… I mean, it’s a trace? A little one at least… I mean, Emmy was a girl and now we have a boy as victim but sorrow and joy… Maybe it’s not that rhyme…” _Please, don’t let it be the rhyme, don’t let me be right…_

“We will see. If the next murder is in any way associated to silver, we will know if you were right or not,” he replied neutrally. He rose his hands to his forehead and rubbed his temples. “Al, not now, please,” he muttered but not quietly enough for Lucy to overhear.

“What is it?”

Fendi squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s raging; how we cannot know something like this rhyme,” he answered. “Yes, I know,” he whispered. It became silent between them again. It got lighter outside; someone came to let them know the corpse had arrived. Florence would be here soon, too. They discussed whether to wait for her or not but eventually decided against that and made their way to the mortuary. Florence wouldn’t mind.

They stood before the black body bag, which contained their next victim, for a moment and didn’t say a thing. It was so silent that Lucy could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. When Fendi reached for the zipper and unzipped the body bag, a few things happened at once: Lucy had to turn away, all blood vanished from her face, Alfendi’s hair turned fiery red and his teeth and fists clenched. He growled.

It wasn’t that the body was particularly bloody or anything. Lucy was sure after the woman from their second murder not a lot could shock her anymore. The blue hoodie was as light as the sky of a beautiful summer day, his face was white as the clouds painted in the sky and as peaceful as only death could be, his hair and clothes were wet. She could see a few bruises where his skin wasn’t covered. But this boy… he was barely ten years old.

When Lucy slowly turned back towards the dead body. Alfendi had rounded the table, his eyes focused on the body; his purple hair had turned to red, his features had hardened. Lucy knew not to disturb him now. But when he opened his mouth, she immediately cut him off.

“Don’t.”

“What?” He looked confused.

“Don’t. Don’t do your deduction speech, not now. He doesn’t deserve this.” Lucy couldn’t watch this. Not now. She faced the floor, inspecting her feet.

“That’s not what I wanted to say,” he answered softly. Lucy looked at him, expecting to see Fendi, but was surprised when she saw that his hair was still fiery red. Lucy tilted her head. He picked at the fabric of the sweater that obviously Fendi had chosen when they had dressed this… last morning. He seemed distressed, something Lucy had picked up on frequently in the weeks since Emmy’s death, but it was different this time. She leaned forward, barely believing her own eyes; did Al have tears in his eyes??

“Prof?!” She rounded to table to stand next to him, but he stepped back. Lucy stopped in her tracks. “What’s wrong?” 

He chuckled. “I see you’re finally getting better at deducing stuff, Baker.” He leaned his head back for a moment before he looked at her again. “I wanted to say I was sorry for him. A boy this age doesn’t deserve this.”

Lucy was stunned to say the least. She hadn’t expected this.

“I… yes, you’re right. No one deserves something like this,” Lucy agreed. Al zipped the body bag close resolutely, before he clung to the edge of the table, breathing deeply. Lucy watched him closely. Something was terribly off here. “Prof? There’s more to it, isn’t it?” she questioned as carefully as possible not to scare him.

He was silent for a moment, shifting his feet, running a hand through his hair, taking another deep breath. Finally, he looked up. The grief in his eyes was unspeakable.

“I have a sister,” he managed to say. He fell silent after that as if he was unable to speak. His mouth opened and closed but no sounds came out. Lucy gulped. She knew this kind of struggle.

“Flora? The one who visited you last week? What about her?”

He shook his head. “No… I have another sister.”

 _Oh. That was new._ He smiled sadly. “Her name was Katrielle. I told you about her, Emmy looked after us.”

Lucy barely dared ask what was on her mind. “It… _was_ her name? What happened?”

Another deep breath. “We don’t know,” he finally said so quietly that a gust of wind could easily sweep it away, that the sound of a heartbeat or a breath could drown it out. “It’s a bit of a longer story,” he explained sidestepping.

“I don’t mind.” Lucy gave him an encouraging smile. “You don’t have to tell if you don’t want to. But I’m here to listen.”

Alfendi sent her a glance as if he wasn’t sure if she spoke the truth. It was eerily quiet for a moment, before he cleared his throat. “Twelve years ago, when Kat was still very young, my father left us to go on another one of his oh so great adventures with Uncle Luke. We were left in Rosa’s care. She was actually just the cleaner of my father’s office, but she was always a grandmother to me and Kat. When our father left with Uncle Luke, he made Rosa take care of us. It shouldn’t be long, just a few weeks. Kat was crying all the time, as for our father had never left her before. At least not for as long as she could think back. He was always there; he was working a lot and basically spending more time in his office than anywhere else, but he never left us. The regular letters barely soothed her when he was away with Uncle Luke, but Rosa and I tried our best. I imagine Kat always thought our father left because of her when the letters stopped at some point. Neither our father nor Uncle Luke ever came back; the police didn’t find a trace of them, nor did they really search for them. They were grown-up, they said, they could go wherever they wanted to.

A year later our father still hadn’t returned. The police told us to accept that they might have died. Kat cried all the time. She had always been a daddy’s girl; she loved our father dearly. For her 8th birthday he had given her a little replica of his own top hat. There was no day she wouldn’t wear it.

I started my training at the police a bit after they had told us to accept their death; I was determined to be better and to find them one day. Kat cried whenever I was gone, and she would cling to me all day when I was at home. When Kat was thirteen, Rosa and I felt that things shifted. I spent more time at the Yard after finishing my exam, of course, and Rosa… well, Rosa had her own life. It went well for a while. Kat was at an age where we could leave her by herself for a little while. Or at least we… thought so. But one day, we came home, and Kat was gone. And she is until now. I haven’t seen her since a few days before her 15th birthday.

Our father and Uncle Luke didn’t come back until three years ago. Kat was long gone by then. And your father… he did search for her but… it always… lacked something. I haven’t heard of Kat since she hugged me goodbye that morning. I still have the present I wanted to give her.”

Silent tears were running down his face. He didn’t wipe them away. Lucy couldn’t say a word. She would have never guessed that.

“I started working more closely with Hilda, but it damaged our relationship to a point where we had to end it for our both sakes. But with every missing child, with every female corpse, I feared it might be Kat, and I still do to this day. I don’t think this will ever change. I’m so afraid I might see her lying here one day.” He was looking at Lucy now, but he had run out of words to say.

“That’s… I’m so sorry, Prof. I know it doesn’t help but… I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” His gaze fell onto the body bag. “I don’t know what happened to her, but I know I will murder anyone who dares lay a hand on children.”

“Prof!” Lucy exclaimed quietly. “I know it’s just me now, but you can’t say such things! What if someone else hears you??”

He laughed bitterly. “Lucy, you know me well enough by now, to know that I _don’t_ care.”

Lucy didn’t answer. Her head was still spinning with what Alfendi had just told her. And she felt ashamed that she was glad for this story because it drowned out the horrible hissing voice that hunted her since her mother had called. She looked at the body bag, then at Alfendi.

“We will find the murderer, Prof, I promise. And Kat. I don’t think she is dead.”

Alfendi rose an eyebrow. “Oh? How would you know, Baker?” he retorted cynically. “She was fourteen when she went missing. If she is not dead, I hope she will be soon. It would be kinder than the things she would have to go through otherwise.”

Lucy shook her head. “I understand where you come from, Prof. But maybe she is alright. The chances are just as high. You have to believe.”

“After twelve years?”

“Aye.”

They remained silent until they heard voices arguing outside. They turned and saw the door open. Florence came in with two men, paramedics, following closely behind her. Her face was red, and the normally so quiet and reserved woman was angry. _Very_ angry.

“Would you back off now?!” she hissed at the two men who looked only barely bothered. When Florence laid eyes on them, her face lit up. “Al! Thank God! Could you please tell them that I can do my job very well without needing two watchdogs at my feet who start barking when I do as much as sneeze?! Let go of me!”

Lucy blinked in surprise. She had known Florence was sick, but this…

One of the paramedics put a hand on her upper arm. “Ms Sich, the doctor said-”

“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER.” Alfendi planted himself in front of said paramedic and glared him into the ground. “Didn’t your parents teach you anything about consent?! She doesn’t want you to touch her. And if you don’t stop laying your hands on her I will…” Alfendi’s voice became very quiet so Lucy and Florence, who was now standing next to Lucy, couldn’t understand it. But they could see how the paramedics’ faces became absolutely white at Alfendi’s words.

“Are you alright?” Lucy whispered to Florence. She looked the woman up and down. She might be a bit paler than usual, but Lucy wouldn’t have guessed it was because of her illness, rather because of the missing sleep.

The woman in the lab coat nodded and smiled. “Now I am. Al usually does a pretty good job at getting rid of them.”

“Aye but… why are they here?”

Florence rolled her eyes waving it off. “I had a check-up yesterday like every month, and every month they insist I must be feeling bad and want to keep me at the hospital, so they did for the night. When I wanted to leave this morning when the Commissioner called me, while absolutely nothing was wrong with me, they wanted to keep me from doing so. This,” she gestured to Alfendi and the paramedics, who were looking like ghosts by now, “is nothing new. Happens again and again. It’s usually the only time Alfendi leaves his office, when he hears us arguing and comes to scare them off. He’s quite good at that.”

By the end of her explanation, she paramedics had retreated, possibly scared for their lives, while Al looked rather smug with himself. Florence grinned when he came over, and they high fived. “Thank you, my knight in the shining armour. Will they survive?”

“I’m not too sure,” Al joked. They laughed quietly. Lucy watched intently. She hadn’t known they could make pretty good friends, and probably were. It was kinda nice.

“Well, then let’s look at the corpse you brought me. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into her office behind the shelves to change clothes, Lucy and Alfendi staying back. Both their gazes went to the closed body bag with the boy. Before Lucy could drown in her thoughts, Alfendi cleared his throat.

“The rhyme was a good call. We have to look into this further.”

A violent shiver ran down Lucy’s spine. “But the… the first two, they-”

“Could fit,” he interrupted her, his gaze far away.

Lucy frowned. “What? Why that? It doesn’t make se-“

“It does. Somehow.”

“How?”

He looked at her for a long time, neither of them saying a word. He shook his head and whispered. “No. I couldn’t tell.” His cheeks had turned a bit red. Lucy tilted her head in question. What was going on?

But Alfendi was faster. He had stepped a bit closer but wasn’t touching her. “Are you alright? Because of earlier…”

Something clicked in Lucy’s head and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. She was aware of how Alfendi would deduce that, but she couldn’t care less. She just wanted to… “Yes, I… I am. I was just panicking a bit, that’s all.” She tried a smile. “Thanks for being there for me.”

He waved it off and smiled. “Don’t thank me for that. Do you want to talk about it?”

Talking about it? Absolutely not. She had worked so hard to leave all of this behind, she wouldn’t let Alfendi know any of this, not ever. It had taken a part of her she had worked so hard to get back, she wouldn’t just place it in their hands again by reviving all the memories.

“No, thank you,” she said very clearly and a lot harsher than she’d planned to. Alfendi was momentarily taken aback and before Lucy could think, she added, “I will have to take a few of my vacation days next week. Is that arrangeable?”

Alfendi blinked, then cleared his throat. “Of course. You’re free to take them whenever you want. But you’ll have to speak to the Commissioner first.”

“I will. Thank you.”

She stared at the body bag, thinking of the boy in the blue hoodie until Florence rushed in and a new day at the Yard began.

Just so.


	12. An Angel Gone to War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda was standing above him. “Hi. What are you doing here? Did Lucy throw you out of the office?”  
> Alfendi sighed and looked forward again. “No. I left. I had to think.”  
> Hilda frowned. “How so? You never leave your office.” She gestured towards the space next to him. “May I?”  
> He looked at her, then shrugged. Before he could answer, Al suddenly pushed forward. “If you feel the need to annoy me, feel free.”  
> She sighed but sat down. “I wouldn’t trade your lovely company for anything else,” she answered sarcastically. Al chuckled but kept staring ahead of himself. He knew why he liked Hilda.  
> “Lucy is quite something, isn’t she?” Hilda broke the silence which had spread between them. While she was very patient and could sit in silence for hours, she also knew how to get Al to talk best.  
> “Yes,” Al answered almost softly. He could feel Hilda’s surprise. “She’s good.”  
> “Indeed. She’s excellent at what she does. That job is for her,” she agreed.  
> But Al shook his head. “No, she’s good. A good person.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I know it's been quite a while since I uploaded anything. I wasn't feeling well which resulted in me neglecting all my writing. But I'm feeling better now and will try to update more regularly despite university.  
> Thank you to everyone who still sticks around. I hope you're all doing well.  
> Also, this is kind of a special chapter bc it's written out of Alfendi's POV ^^ but next chapter, we will return to Lucy's POV as usual ^^
> 
> Melina

Chapter 11 

An Angel Gone to War 

Alfendi noticed the shift in Lucy’s posture most probably even before she noticed it herself. But the shift in the air, that was something everyone noticed. When Florence came back, she stopped dead in her tracks for a moment, just looking at the two of them before she sighed and continued her way.

“Is there anything you know yet?” she asked while taking on some gloves. He felt Lucy’s gaze on him.

“A boy, eleven years old. He was found tonight at the Thames’s shore. No outer marks, there is water in his lungs, but the cause of death is still unclear. He could have drowned I suppose…” he quickly summarized what he had found out an gotten to know by others in the past few hours while Lucy had been sleeping. She’d needed the sleep dearly, especially after last night. With a side glance he confirmed his suspicion: she was still as white as a ghost with deep shadows beneath her eyes. She looked smaller than yesterday, somehow like she was trying to need less space. He frowned deeply, wondering for the 100th time this morning what the hell might have happened to her.

“Eleven years? It’s been ages since we had a kid here…,” Florence muttered, her eyes trained on the body bag. Alfendi knew she was taking a moment to compose herself; it was never easy if they were dealing with kids. Even Al, who usually only rolled his eyes at things like sentiment, abstained from any sarcastic comments. 

**At least it’s not our Katrielle.**

_You’re right. But still, a kid had to die. And we’re still no step closer to the killer._

Florence slowly unzipped the body bag, the sound way too loud in the early hours of the morning. The boy’s white face came into view, his bright blue hoodie. The colour reminded him of Uncle Luke and when he’d seen it the first time, he had feared for a moment that it might be Uncle Luke who was lying there; but Uncle Luke was, of course, no kid anymore like in the many photographs his father kept in the house. He wouldn’t have been able to endure another death so close to him in such a short time.

**Don’t mention Emmy. You have no right to.**

_Sorry? I’m mourning just like you._

**You forgot her! You made us forget about her!**

He placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. He felt Lucy’s gaze on him and sent her a reassuring smile.

_Could we just stop fighting for now? We have a dead boy here. And Lucy is not feeling well, we should look after her. And concentrate on the case. We need to catch this murderer._

**Finally, a good idea. I knew there was a reason to keep you around.**

He concentrated back on the corpse and Florence again, pushing aside the image of a dead Uncle Luke that was trying to take over his mind. She was examining the body closely. While Alfendi himself knew quite some things about Florence’s work and could easily do it himself, it was always fascinating to watch her work. She noticed the finest things, the slightest divergences which even Alfendi would miss. He’d quite happily spend many hours watching her and even being taught by her in the past.

**Hey! I don’t miss stuff! You’re just always in the way, _fake_! **

He decided to ignore the other for the moment even though it would make him more angry and harder to deal with later.

“I’d say… it could be that he drowned but he didn’t vomit though water would have washed away any trace by now. But his skin… I have to run toxicology tests first and to the complete autopsy… I can’t see any outer marks except that he’s still wet. Time of death… maximum 48 hours ago, but the water makes it hard to – Achoo! – determine.” She huffed, put her papers away and pulled her ponytail tighter. “Alright, let’s get to work.”

“Wait.”

Alfendi looked to his right where Lucy was usually standing when he heard her strained voice. Her face bore a painful expression. “Blaine said there was a case with a missing boy. If it is him, I can imagine his parents might come later to identify him. Can’t you wait until they were here? To see him one last time and say goodbye? I… if I was his mother, I wouldn’t want to see my son all cut open and bloody and… _dead_.” She looked to the ground as if she was unsure of her words. “Please?”

Before he could react, Al had pushed Fendi back into his mind and surged forward. He tried to fight it, tried to fight what he feared was about to come but it was useless; he was way too weak.

“She’s right,” Al barked. “I wouldn’t want to see my kid like this either. Dry the body first, let the parents do their sentimental stuff and then get to work.”

Florence mustered him. “Are you trying to tell me how to do my job, Layton?”

He smirked. “Wouldn’t think of it. Just better thinking.”

A small smile appeared on Florence face and she chuckled. “Okay. I guess that I can wait in that case. I can imagine the parents won’t take too long…”

And they didn’t. Al was shifting uncomfortably and eventually pushed Fendi forward again who only sighed. He knew that the other was aware that he lacked on the emotional side and wouldn’t be able to deal with the boy’s parents. At least not properly. Some time ago, it hadn’t yet bothered him and Fendi had only sighed because Al would never let him handle the situation, but ever since Lucy had stepped into their life, they had both become more aware of this… _issue_.

 **I… don’t like this** , Al admitted.

_Well, me neither. Let’s just get it over with._

**Good idea.**

_Was that a compliment?_

**Shut the fuck up, fake.**

But it came differently. Alfendi could feel Lucy’s intense eyes on him as they were waiting for the boy’s parents who had been called a while ago. When the door burst open and a crying couple stumbled into the Yard, he felt Lucy surge forward rather than he saw her do it. Before he could even get a word out, she had already approached the pair.

“Hello. You must be Mrs. And Mr. Kane?”

**What the hell is she doing?!**

“I’m DC Lucy Baker. With my deepest sympathy. I would… bring you to your son.”

**She’s… helping us?**

_Yes. It seems like._

So, Alfendi found himself standing in the door to the mortuary just minutes later while Lucy was talking soothingly to the parents, especially to the hysterical mother who wouldn’t stop crying and stroking her son’s hair. He was… _amazed_ , to say the least. Especially Al.

**She’s… wow.**

_Yes, I know what you mean._

**How is she doing that?**

_I have no idea._

They continued staring in awe at how Lucy was speaking to them in such a soothing voice, how she comforted them in a way he could never have.

**Do you know what she reminds me of?**

_Hm?_

**An angel.**

_An angel?_ Fendi chuckled. _Did you become religious without me noticing?_

 **Oh, believe me, there is so much you don’t notice, fake, so shut it,** he shot back quite aggressively. Fendi could feel the other’s desire to push him aside; his fingertips were itching, every cell in his body was torn between left and right, the migraine was starting to set in. But at the same time, he felt Al’s reluctance about being present in this situation, so he forced himself to stay back which didn’t exactly make the headache any better.

**No. I meant she’s… an angel. An angel on a battlefield after a war. She leads the victims away and soothes the remaining.**

_Quite poetic._

**Would you disagree?**

_Not a second._

The sound of heels against the floor reached his ears. He greeted Hilda with a nod as she stepped next to him. She looked at Lucy for a long time, then at him. “I wanted to check if everything was alright. But it seems like I’m not needed here,” she explained her presence quietly so only Alfendi could hear it. Lucy was busy with the parents, but Florence had noticed her and nodded as well. She slowly made her way towards them.

“Yes, it’s fine. Lucy is quite… a natural.” He would rather go to hell than tell Hilda or Florence anything he had just thought. Besides, Al would murder him if he did.

**Quite right.**

“I’ve never seen anyone so good with people,” Florence whispered once she’s reached them. Hilda and Alfendi nodded.

“Me neither. That’s something many of us lack. How is she so good?” Hilda inquired.

Alfendi simply shrugged. “I haven’t the foggiest.”

But deep inside him, he knew something wasn’t right. And he wondered if Lucy was just that kind of person or what she had had to go through to become like this.

He hoped for the former but believed the latter.

Al and Fendi both felt quite off for the rest of the day, even after the parents were gone and Florence had started working on the boy. He had even found himself escaping his office because he was so utterly confused while neither Al nor Fendi themselves knew what had them so confused. Lucy had simply risen her eyebrows and asked worried if she could somehow help him, but he had just rushed out of the office. He hadn’t gotten very far, not really. Now, he was sitting on the stairs up to the main hall of the Yard, knees drawn up, and was feeling bad for leaving Lucy like that.

**Geez, and here I thought I was the mean one.**

_You are._

**And who left Lucy so rudely?! Fake.**

_Would you stop calling me that? I know you don’t like me, but do you really have to do that._

**Oh, stop complaining. I can do what I want, and you know that.**

_That’s quite abusive._

Al fell silent, and Fendi sighed.

_What do you think, why was Lucy so panicked last night? It was just her mother calling._

**She could have lied to us.**

_Lucy wouldn’t lie._

**Are you sure?** Al chuckled darkly. **Did you ever notice that she never tells us something about her family? How she’d fidgeting when we get anywhere close that topic? She didn’t even spend Christmas with her family.**

_We didn’t either._

**Yes, because Dad is an asshole who left us, we don’t know anything about our mother, Kat is most probably dead, and Uncle Luke and Aunt Marina are in America. Idiot.**

_Thank you for the reminder,_ Fendi answered quite piqued.

 **I’m just saying** , Al started over, voice a bit friendlier, **that it’s strange. Her file doesn’t give away a lot either.**

_Barely looked at it._

**I know. But I did.**

_I know._

Someone next to him cleared their throat. Hilda was standing above him. “Hi. What are you doing here? Did Lucy throw you out of the office?”

Alfendi sighed and looked forward again. “No. I left. I had to think.”

Hilda frowned. “How so? You never leave your office.” She gestured towards the space next to him. “May I?”

He looked at her, then shrugged. Before he could answer, Al suddenly pushed forward. “If you feel the need to annoy me, feel free.”

She sighed but sat down. “I wouldn’t trade your _lovely_ company for anything else,” she answered sarcastically. Al chuckled but kept staring ahead of himself. He knew why he liked Hilda.

“Lucy is quite something, isn’t she?” Hilda broke the silence which had spread between them. While she was very patient and could sit in silence for hours, she also knew how to get Al to talk best.

“Yes,” Al answered almost softly. He could feel Hilda’s surprise. “She’s good.”

“Indeed. She’s excellent at what she does. That job is for her,” she agreed.

But Al shook his head. “No, she’s _good_. A good person.” He placed his chin on his crossed arms. “I was watching her and… I was wondering if she just is that kind of person or if something happened to her.” He turned his head towards Hilda, feeling like a little boy who didn’t understand the simplest concepts of math. “You know, some things just don’t add up. It has me so utterly confused but I don’t want to pressure Lucy into telling me or admitting things she’s not feeling comfortable with. I mean I can absolutely understand her. I’m not exactly the person you would tell your most sacred secrets…”

If anyone else was told this story, no one would believe it. No one would believe that Alfendi Layton had just opened his heart and admitted that he didn’t understand something. He was aware of that. But even if his relationship with Hilda hadn’t ended on the best terms, they had always agreed that it would never interfere with their jobs or them being colleagues. And friends. Alfendi didn’t know why but Hilda was an enigma like Lucy when it came to understanding him. She just… _did_. He didn’t know how, but she did. And he knew she wouldn’t ever tell anyone, just like him. He might overstep a few more boundaries than her but he would never think of telling _anyone_ what Hilda had once trusted him with.

Hilda looked at him for a long time. He knew she was surprised; raised eyebrows, the almost inaudible gasp somewhere in the middle of his monologue, the slightly bigger pupils. While Hilda could usually keep a poker face, she had failed miserably this time. But he also knew she was thinking of an answer.

“You like her,” she eventually stated softly.

Al blinked, shifting uncomfortably. “Of course,” he muttered. “She’s my assistant.”

_Shall I take over?_

**Like hell, fake.**

Hilda tilted her head. “That’s not what I meant. And you know it. You’re not as good keeping a poker face as you think.”

Al surged forward. “What’s that supposed to mean?! Jealous I’m better than you, hm, Hildy?”

But she merely chuckled. “Not at all. Just curious how uncomfortable I have to get you to talk to your better half.”

He huffed. “I wouldn’t exactly call him my better half. More like an annoying presence.”

_Hey! You admitted yourself that my ideas are good!_

“With some rare moments when he’s useful. A bit.”

_Asshole._

**I thought I was the one using swearwords. I will tell Lucy.**

_Oh, shut it._

**Nope.**

“Anyway,” Hilda interrupted their… chat. “You like her and you worry about her.” She smiled. “That’s nothing bad.”

“Like I said, she’s my assistant.”

Hilda looked at him critically.

He groaned. “I won’t call her anything else. Seriously, Hilda, who would like to be friends with me?”

Before she could answer and their talk could end in one of those annoying speeches of you-are-not-as-bad-as-you-think-you-are, Lucy came down the hall towards them. She was surprised to see them both sitting on the stairs but simply waved happily and skipped towards them. “Hi Prof! ’ello, Hilda! Nice to see ya! I see ya found ma boss!” she greeted them.

Hilda stood swiftly. “Hi Lucy. Sorry for keeping Alfendi from you. I’ll leave you two then.”

Lucy chuckled. “No problem! Ya don’t have to leave, I was -“

“Places to be, sorry!” she excused herself and smiled.

Lucy returned it. “Alright. See ya around, Hilda!”

**She’s always so happy and friendly. How does she do that?**

_No idea._

**How can you not know? You’re the one who’s always friendly and polite!**

_Yes, but she’s… genuine. I’m not._

“Are ya alright, Prof?” Lucy sat down where Hilda had been sitting moments ago when he made no move to get up. “I didn’t know whether t’ follow you or not but I figured you wanted some space for ya’self.”

“It’s fine, Baker. I just needed to sort out some stuff with the other one,” he answered lightly.

Lucy rose an eyebrow. “I hope you weren’t too mean.”

He laughed. “What are you thinking of me, Baker? I can be decent if I want to. We were just mulling some ideas. Where were you headed?” he changed the topic. He really wouldn’t feel comfortable telling her about the chat with Hilda. Or lying about it to her.

“Oh, me? I was on my way to t’ Commissioner asking for the free days I asked ya about.”

“Oh, okay. Don’t let yourself be hold back by me.”

But Lucy stayed put. “Are you sure you are alright? You seemed off all day.”

He rolled his eyes. “Stop worrying, Baker, I’m fine.” He looked at her. “Are you? You had quite the intense panic attack last night.”

He could literally feel how she turned away from him and would have even liked to run given the chance. It was worse than it had been in the morning. “I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look like it.”

“That’s not up to you to determine,” she stated.

“Yes, I know, but I see what’s before me, Baker. I’m not a fool.”

“Why do you think it fits?”

“What?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “This morning. You said, “sorrow” and “joy” fit but you never explained why. So?”

He huffed. “Is that a twisted way of telling me you won’t tell because I didn’t?”

“Aye.”

He smirked. “You’re getting better and better by day, my dear Lucy,” he chuckled before he got serious again. “I won’t pressure you into telling me. But I’m here, okay? Just like you.”

Lucy blinked a few times before she nodded and got up to go to the Commissioner, leaving Alfendi on the stairs where he’d been sitting the past hour. He hoped Lucy would come to him one day, but something told him she wouldn’t. Al retreated back into his head to push Fendi forward. None of them said anything until Lucy came back down the stairs. She gently touched his shoulder in an attempt to make him follow her.

 **Whoever it is who did something to her that made her this way** , Al thought, **I will cut out his tongue given the chance.**

Fendi didn’t say anything.

She had taken some of her holidays and was back by the next Monday. Deep shadows laid beneath her eyes and she looked paler than she normally did. But her posture and everything about her screamed not to ask while everything inside Alfendi screamed to ask her what _the hell_ had happened to her. It was quite the task holding Al back and ended with two full days of migraine. Also, Lucy was drinking coffee and dealing with quite the headache herself. She was so done that she fell asleep halfway through the day and apologized endlessly once she woke up again, no matter how often Alfendi assured her it was fine.

“God damn it, Baker!” Al hit his desk. “It’s fucking _fine_! Get it over with and get back to work,” he snarled when he couldn’t take either anymore, her constant apologizing and Fendi’s calm assertions.

But he immediately realized that this was the wrong thing to do when he saw how violently she flinched and looked like she feared he was about to hit her.

_Great! How did you even manage to stay alive before I was there?_

**Quite fine, fake. Without you, I wouldn’t ever have to deal with this because the Commissioner would have never even dared think of assigning me an assistant.**

He growled and pushed Fendi back. **Oh please, as if this has _ever_ worked before.**

_Then apologize! Just look what you did!_

**SHUT UP!**

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I didn’t… please, just stop apologizing, there is no reason for you to feel bad. I fell asleep so many times, it happens. Why don’t you go home early today? You look like you could need some sleep.”

_Oh, look who can be nice._

She looked to the ground. “No, no, I’m fine… I’m sure I missed so much of the case during my absence, I cannot miss any more.”

She sounded so… hollow. So not like herself.

**_What happened to her?_ **

**_I don’t know._ **

Like she was afraid to take up space, to make a wrong move, take a wrong step. Al tilted his field and eventually left the field to Fendi. “Are you sure you are alright?”

She looked up when she heard his gentle voice and nodded. “I am. I-” She flinched violently when someone knocked on the door and Al pushed his counterpart aside again. Who dared interrupt now?!

It was Emiliana Perfetti, the annoying criminal analyst who had been assigned to help Alfendi because even the Commissioner had noticed by now that they were barely making any progress with the case. “Inspector Layton, about the theft-”

“If the ladder is green, it was the gardener, like I said! Check the garden shed for the money, his car for the jewellery, his girlfriend’s birthday is soon. Anything else?!” he barked. The Comissioner didn’t have to know he kept her occupied with other cases. He didn’t want her to interfere with his work. It was _his_ murderer and he _would_ get him.

The woman rose an eyebrow as she looked from him to Lucy and back to him. “No, that would be it.”

“Then leave.” He was ready to throw something at the door, but Emiliana left as swiftly as she’d appeared. He noticed Lucy’s gaze; she must have watched closely.

“The gardener? What did I miss?”

“Oh, nothing.” He waved it off and threw himself onto the couch. Lucy turned towards him but still didn’t move. She seemed more like a doll today than anything else. It freaked him out. “I just took on some more cases while you were gone to be occupied. I was also thinking who could be the victim for ‘silver’ but I haven’t made any progress yet.” 

She picked at the fabric of her sleeves. “Am I… am I holding you back? I know my mind is not as fast as yours and I-”

“What!?”

**How could she ever think something like that?? Did I give her that impression?**

_I have to admit… no. Not that I could think of. In the beginning, yes. But lately? Not at all._

“No! Absolutely not!” He jumped up, ignoring her flinching as he stepped closer. He wanted to take her arms but when he saw her horrified expression, he settled for a smile while everything inside him screamed to punish whoever did this to her. “Lucy, you give me notions, you keep my brain on my toes. You’re giving great insights, I wouldn’t _ever_ have thought of that rhyme without you! You don’t slow me down, Lucy; you keep me going.”

A tiny smile made its way on her face. “Ta’ Prof. It’s t’ nicest thing someone’s said to me this week.”

He laughed. “You should be told every day, my dear Lucy. You’re absolutely amazing at what you do and how you handle what I throw at you.” He flopped back down onto the couch. “I don’t know how I could not know this rhyme. You know who would have known it? Kat. Kat would have known. It’s a children’s rhyme, I’m so sure my father told us once. She would have remembered it. She was such a daddy’s girl. It was adorable.” He smiled sadly. “By the way, the boy’s funeral is this Friday. The Kanes invited us.” What would he give to have his little sister back in his arms. Yet he was never sure what he preferred; dead or alive. What she would most probably had to go through to make it out alive… she was a girl after all, alone out there… but _dead_ … no, he didn’t want to think of her cold, pale corpse on Florence’s desk just a few metres away from him.

He felt Lucy sitting down next to him. When he looked at her, she smiled like the Lucy he knew. “She _is_ a daddy’s girl.”

**Do you believe her?**

_Somehow I want to. Do you?_

**Yes**.

“Yes,” Alfendi exhaled. “She is.”


	13. Five and Six for Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Everything alright, Prof?”  
> He didn’t reply for a few second. “I’m not sure yet,” he eventually answered before entering the room smoothly, stepping around deliberately not to mess up any evidence. His eyes were taking in even the smallest details. Lucy followed him into the room and then with her eyes as he was stepping around the two victims on the ground. “Something feels… off.”  
> “There are two victims this time,” Lucy stated the obvious. “Maybe that’s why,” she quickly added when she saw Al’s annoyed gaze.  
> “Yeah, maybe…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, can it be? It almost looks like a regular uploading schedule XD  
> Sorry guys, don't get your hopes up. Christmas is approaching and exam season starts already in January for me, not in February like for anyone else. RIP me. But anyway.  
> A new chapter! I was talking to a friend last night and suddenly felt very motivated to finish it. I want to write a bit more in general I decided :)  
> Also, I will (try to!!) upload a little Lucifendi Christmas fic ^^ It will only be very short (that's the plan at least, might not work bc I tend to write a lot when I do XD) but yeah. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Besides a murder, mental illnesses are shown in this chapter. It is a kind of panic attack Lucy experiences. It is no shame if you feel uncomfortable reading something like it. I highlighted the part by putting a * before it and after it. So if you don't want to read it, skip that part. I will summarize what happened in that part when I upload the next chapter bc a few important things happen in that part. 
> 
> Stay safe and healthy where ever you are and have a wonderful advent season!  
> Melina

Chapter 12

Five and Six for Silver

Noah Kane’s funeral was the following Thursday. It was a cold day of January, but the sun was shining, and it wasn’t raining for once, a truly rare sight for London. It was hard not to cry like Noah’s family and friends at the sight of the little white coffin. But there were other things to worry about quite soon after that. The next murder happened just a few days later. Their murderer accelerated. Maybe they got scared; scared or impatient according to Alfendi. But there was a chance they would make a mistake soon, getting careless. Alfendi was delighted about that and was going at an according speed when the news about the next murder reached their ears. For a moment Lucy remembered her very first day all those months ago when she’d been afraid that she might die from Alfendi’s driving style. Now, she was sitting next to him and was skimming across the information they’d already gotten from the regular police who had been called by an anonymous person and been told a murder had happened.

“But why do you think that’s our murderer? What they told us doesn’t fit in,” Lucy inquired frowning as she was reading on her phone screen. “Do you think it was them who called the police?”

“Two murderers running around in the same city at the same time? Highly unlikely. Besides, it would make sense for him to gain speed. They usually get impatient after three murders, it took him four. It was about time. And the call? You can bet it was him. He wants the attention and he wants to make fun of us. He’s playing a game – a game I will win, my dear Lucy.” When he smirked, he looked like a mad man.

“You already sound so utterly happy again,” she sighed.

Alfendi shrugged, stroking a strand of fiery red hair out of his eyes. He was still going at full speed. “It’s my way and you know it.”

“Guess I do, Prof,” she sighed. “Don’t get your hopes up t’much in case it’s not our murderer.”

“There’s been a murder, Baker. I’m in exactly the right mood.” He pulled into a parking lot with way too much speed and jumped out of the car even before he seemed to have stopped properly. Lucy pulled the keys which Alfendi had – again – forgotten. She’d stopped long ago trying to keep up to him when he was in this kind of mood. It was like trying to keep a child away from a bowl full of sweets on Halloween or the living room after Santa brought the presents. Fruitless work. She would catch up with him soon enough.

When she exited the car, she felt like she’d been in this place before. A day a few months ago came to Lucy’s mind; when she and the Prof had rushed to the crime scene on her very first day. Little had Lucy known back than what she would get herself into. She locked the car. What had seemed like hell back then, was now her everyday life and she loved every second of it. She smiled but it vanished quickly; she was reminded of something else that had become her daily routine so long ago. She pushed it from her mind to concentrate on what was in front of her.

The crime scene was a little single-family house in the outskirts of London. Lucy tried to imagine if the little Noah had lived in a similar situation; probably. Lucy found it very hard to forget about that kid. She’d always found it rather difficult to remain detached when children were involved but she knew it was necessary for her. She guessed everyone felt like that. Even the Prof.

He was currently discussing with one of the police officers in front of the house. It was still early so they were saved the news reporters and journalists. But Lucy guessed they would be here sooner than later. Alfendi handed her a pair of the typical blue disposable gloves while he was listening to the officer.

“… and we – who’s that?”

Lucy flashed her badge. “DC Lucy Baker. I’m here with Inspector Layton.”

The officer nodded. “Good morning, Ms Baker. Anyway, like I was saying, we found the two this morning; someone called us to let us know there might be suspicious actions going on, but we don’t know who it was. The caller never told us their name and we could merely trace the call to a phone cell at the Piccadilly Square.”

“We need a record of the phone call as soon as possible. Send hat over to the Yard, directly to me. Don’t let yourself be fooled if someone wants to send it to a Blain Dartwright. I want that record immediately. And now, I want to see the victims.”

“Of course. It’s just up – oh.” Alfendi was already dashing ahead again. Lucy smiled at the officer apologetically.

“Forgive his behaviour. We’re very on edge with finally catching this killer, especially him. Where is it I have to go?”

The officer huffed but seemed relieved to have received an explanation. He returned Lucy’s smile. “Just down the hall, the last door on the right. You cannot miss it.”

“Ta!” And off she was, leaving the poor police officer wondering if he was even needed here.

Lucy almost bumped into Alfendi who hadn’t yet taken a step into said room. She sensed how his eyes were scanning the room carefully. “Everything alright, Prof?”

He didn’t reply for a few second. “I’m not sure yet,” he eventually answered before entering the room smoothly, stepping around deliberately not to mess up any evidence. His eyes were taking in even the smallest details. Lucy followed him into the room and then with her eyes as he was stepping around the two victims on the ground. “Something feels… off.”

“There are two victims this time,” Lucy stated the obvious. “Maybe that’s why,” she quickly added when she saw Al’s annoyed gaze.

“Yeah, maybe…,” he muttered circling the victims another time. Lucy watched him for a few more moments before she concentrated on the room. It was obviously the living room where they were in; no, it was rather a big space that combined the living area and the kitchen; Lucy could see the kitchen behind a white shelve full of books and decoration that filled as a room divider. To her left was a couch and a TV, clearly marking the living area of the room, to her right was a table and some chairs. The room itself was being lit up by huge windows on the opposite wall.

The table was still laid as if the two people had just been getting ready to eat although the food must be cold by now. Not rotten yet, Lucy noticed, so it couldn’t have been there for too long, hence the two people couldn’t have been dead for too long. Broken cups and their previous contents were covering the floor.

And lastly, the victims.

Lucy took a deep breath before she risked any further looks at them. It was a man and a woman. From the visible gap in age, Lucy would guess them to be father and daughter, but she didn’t want to prejudge. They were both lying on the floor as if they had fallen from their chairs; the woman had for sure as she was still lying like this. The man seemed to have either crept towards her or collapsed after taking a step towards her. There was no blood, but the smell of vomit was quickly filling Lucy’s nostrils.

“Poison?” she guessed, looking at Alfendi who had crouched down next to the woman. He nodded absentmindedly as he was taking a closer look at the woman but remained silent. “Do you think they were murdered by our murderer? I mean they’re two…”

“94,8%.” He got up swiftly and turned towards Lucy. “Like I said, it’s highly unlikely that there would be two murderers at the same time.”

“Maybe an imitator?”

He shook his head but frowned deeply. “I don’t think so. Not enough is known about him for an imitator existing. Though it indeed bothers me that there are two victims. Is he trying to confuse us like the first time? 94,8% of a chance… no wait, 95,3%... oh, this is getting interesting… let’s see, what was on your mind…”

Alfendi was again going into that state of mind where it was better when no one was around, when he would start making his deductions of what might have happened by trying to mimic what the murderer must have done and, more importantly, thought; the crueller the better. Lucy knew she didn’t want to be around for that and that the Prof didn’t want anyone around. She decided to leave him to what he was best at for now and go back to the police officer. He seemed glad see her and be able to help as Lucy was asking him for the details on the preceding events; the caller, how they had found the bodies, what they had done previous to their arrival.

Lucy noted down everything she could. The police officer, whose name was Mr. Ellis, was nice enough to repeat everything for her when she didn’t get it the first time.

“Ta’ Sir!” Lucy smiled at him brightly.

“It’s no problem, Ms. Baker,” he replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m just really glad I don’t have to do this with your co-worker. I’ve heard… troubling stories. Please, it’s nothing against him, it’s just…”

“I know,” Lucy reassured him. “He is a bit difficult to work with, I agree with that. Just need to get to know him, then he’s a real nice person!” She smiled but the police officer didn’t look like he believed her.

“Alrighty. Gotta check how he’s doing up there. Sorry.” She smiled at the police officer before she hurried back down the corridor. Police officers were everywhere, questioning the other residents. It would take them hours to go through all the statements, but Lucy really hoped that at least one of them would help them. She couldn’t believe that someone who was able to murder two persons at once could be able to get into a flat violently without anyone noticing.

Mr. Ellis was following her closely. “I’ll accompany you, Ms. Baker,” he said when he noticed her puzzled gaze. “I want to find this murderer as badly as you. I have two little daughters, I fear for them.”

Lucy tried a smile. “I understand you, Mr. Ellis. We will find the murderer, I promise you.”

He smiled back but didn’t say anything. Lucy turned away from his sight push open the door that she had left slightly open just earlier, but the handle was out of her reach before she could react. Alfendi had torn it open and was rushing out of the room like a deadly whirlwind. He grabbed her by the shoulders. 

There was a distinctive glimmer in his eyes. For one who didn’t know any better it might have been anger or impatience. But to Lucy, that glimmer was more than known – it was like an old friend whom she hadn’t seen in years, only that the panic in Alfendi’s eyes wasn’t a friend, never had been, and that Lucy had found herself in a state just like that not too long ago. But instead of panicking at the sigh of him, everything inside her calmed down when Alfendi turned away and swept towards Mr. Ellis at whom he was glaring like a mad man. “YOU!” He pointed at Mr. Ellis. “You were here first, right? Where you in that flat?! Was anyone besides Ms. Baker and me in that flat?! QUICKLY, ANSWER ME!”

*****

“No- No one was in- in there,” he stuttered at which Alfendi rolled his eyes despite the panic Lucy could make out in his voice. What had happened in there? Was it the murderer?! The thoughts were panicked, but it somehow didn’t reach her. Lucy felt like those thoughts weren’t hers.

Alfendi freed himself from Lucy’s grip and stepped towards Mr. Ellis who took a few steps back and held up his hands in a defensive manner. “N-No! No one was in there! When we – when we-”

“COME ON, I DON’T HAVE ALL DAY!”

“No one but you and your co-worker were in there, I swear!” He sounded like he would faint any second and the colour of his skin spoke of the same.

“Are you sure?!”

Well, however sure Mr. Ellis was, Lucy was sure Alfendi would cut the poor man’s throat at any moment if he didn’t answer fast enough. As she was watching Alfendi getting louder and more agitated, Lucy grew very calm. His voice sounded like he was standing in another room; the edges blurred and softened, the adrenaline in Lucy’s body gradually ebbed away. When Alfendi grabbed her wrist, Lucy knew he would leave a mark, but she didn’t feel it; it was like a cloud’s touch, soft even to the sight. As he pulled her through the corridor, the many voices of various people mixed together creating a hissing sound in her ears that soon crescendoed into a singing that had accompanied Lucy through a childhood that was enough for five children. Her gaze grew empty, the features in front of her eyes became blurred and unsharp. Still, the odd calmness kept her upright like it had always done. Lucy smelled incense.

The cold air hit her like someone had slapped her. For a moment she contemplated that Alfendi had actually slapped her but when he was able to focus on him, she saw the worry in his eyes. No. He wouldn’t slap her. Not like…

_Lucy_

She flinched. Alfendi’s lips moved. Wait, was that her name? Had he said it? He was now holding her by her shoulders again. Wait, no. He was shaking her.

_Lucy!_

Again, her name. She heard his voice, resounding like he was standing in an empty church screaming at God for how cruel he was.

“Lucy!”

The sounds and everything came crashing back to her like another slap. Alfendi was shaking her violently. No, not violently… Lucy blinked. He was afraid.

“What?” she asked calmly.

Alfendi gradually stopped shaking her and instead blinked. “Lucy?”

She smiled and carefully removed his hands from her shoulders. “That’s the fourth time you said my name now. Are you okay?” She rose a hand to lightly touch the side of his face. The panic in his eyes made her worry.

“Yes, I’m… are _you_ alright??”

Lucy tilted her head. “Sure? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you… did you hear what I said? In the corridor?” He took her hand in his and took it away from his face. But he didn’t let go.

Lucy thought long and hard, but she couldn’t remember it. She shook her head. Heat rose into her cheeks. What had happened? She blinked and squeezed Alfendi’s hand absentmindedly. Lucy felt a bit more grounded when he squeezed back.

“I said we needed an ambulance,” he replied very slowly as if not to scare her, but Lucy flinched anyways.

“An ambulance?? Why that?! Did something happen to you??” She looked him up and down for any bruises or wounds. When she couldn’t find any, she grew even more worried. What was wrong?!

Alfendi ran a hand through his overly messy hair. His eyes looked around hectically. “We… might have been poisoned. I’m sorry, Lucy, it’s my fault.”

Lucy blinked rapidly, the calmness overtaking her again as she heard the ambulance approaching. She let go of Alfendi’s hand.

It wasn’t until many hours later when the sun had vanished from the sky and both of them were in the hospital that a question came to Lucy’s mind that hadn’t troubled her before. But apparently, Alfendi had chosen the same moment to speak. “Lucy?”

She decided to put her question last. “Aye Prof?”

“What happened to you today?” He grew quiet for a second. “When I pulled you out of the house. You were so quiet and not reacting at all when I talked to you.”

Lucy shrugged, but he couldn’t see that of course. He might hear the rustling of her sheets at the motion. “I don’t know. Thought about it during the day – t’happened to me a few times when I was a kid.” She looked at thumbnail as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. And it really did look funny in the moonlight. “I don’t know what it is or why t’happened. It was just some weird thing I did as a kid – zoning out.”

“Hm.” He was thinking. Lucy smiled in the dark. It felt nice to know something about someone without having to see. “I re… alright. Just… if it happens again, can you tell me? I was really worried there for a second.”

Lucy chuckled. “Don’t tell me the great Alfendi Layton was worried for someone else.”

He laughed quietly. “Hey, don’t blame _me_! You looked _so bad_!”

“I look amazing!”

They snickered a bit with each other but Alfendi soon grew serious again. “No, Lucy, really. For a moment I thought the poison had gotten you. I don’t know if you can tell me when you are in such a state – if you are able to – but could you try?”

Lucy was looking at her thumbnail again. “I don’t know, I never tried it before. But I can. If it happens again.”

“Thanks.”

*****

“Yeah, no problem, Prof.” It was quiet for a moment. The question was still burning at the back of Lucy’s mind. Might he have fallen asleep already? “Alfendi?”

“Hm?” He sounded wide awake.

Lucy turned around so she faced him although he was a few feet away. “How did you know the kind of poison?”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. When he finally did, his voice sounded strange. “It was “Five for silver”, wasn’t it?”

Lucy waited although patience wasn’t her strong suit. 

He cleared his throat. “I knew it was a poison and not something else – there was no wound, not even a bruise or a scratch on them. I knew it wasn’t an argyrosis – a poisoning with silver or silver dust – because the victims’ skin would have turned blue if it was so. Besides, it doesn’t take effect that quickly, and we need something that does act quickly. Then there’s quicksilver – very poisonous. It’s poisonous in its normal form but only if it gets inside the body. I thought it might be that. I checked the food and the drinks but there wasn’t any sign of it. You can’t conceal quicksilver easily.” He fell silent for a moment. “There is a form of quicksilver that acts as a neurotoxin which takes effect within a very short amount of time – especially when you heat it, like in tea. And I… I smelled it. It’s a very sweet smell, like… imagine the air smelling like sugar tastes. It’s heavy.”

“I didn’t smell anything like it.”

Sheets rustled in the dark room. She imagined he had turned to face her like she had done. Another one of those really strange sleepovers. She chuckled quietly.

“I’m glad you didn’t smell it. It means you might not have breathed it in. That’s good.” Did she imagine that as well or was he smiling? Lucy was sure she could hear it in his voice.

She smiled. “I hope ya will be fine, too, Prof. Would really suck if you weren’t, I don’t want another job,” she joked. She knew it was the kind of joke he liked.

She was right, he laughed like a little child. “Don’t worry, Baker,” he smirked. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Counting on it, Prof.”

“Though I might murder you for the nickname.”

“After a near-death experience and even before we caught t’ murderer? That’d be mean, Prof, even for ya.”

He chuckled. “Ah, you know me too well, Baker.”

She grinned and they fell silent again. Lucy could hear footsteps in front of their room going up and down the floors. The hospital had fallen asleep, but the people who fought for the lives of its residents were still up and fighting. Lucy snuggled deeper into the thin sheets. Hilda would come tomorrow and bring clothes – no one had been allowed into the room today which had annoyed Alfendi endlessly.

“Well,” Alfendi began. “At least we know now that our murderer is British.”

She blinked confusedly although she really shouldn’t be puzzled. He drew the most ridiculous conclusions, but they usually turned out right. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

He grinned. “Honestly, Baker; who else would poison tea?”

Their laughs alarmed a bunch of nurses who seemed to be very annoyed and surely woke half of the hospital.


	14. A Quicksilver Predicament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda inspected her nails. “Alfendi, did you know,” she began as if she hadn’t heard him at all, as if they were just chatting about the weather, “that Dimethylmercury is an extremely effective neurotoxin that can cross the blood-cerebral barrier without any resistances within moments and cause great damage? Or that it is highly hazardous when breathed in? I read that a woman died of Dimethylmercury after one single drop touched her glove. It took her a few months to die but if you were exposed to it and even smelled it, I can calculate how long it would take you to die or at least show signs of the poisoning…” She lifted her eyes to look at him. “Don’t take me for an idiot! What game are you playing, Alfendi?!”  
> “I’m merely playing the game the murderer wants me to play.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late Merry Christmas! I couldn't finish the Lucifendi Christmas thing so far (I might still) but I managed to finish another chapter! ^^ And the tension is rising now!  
> Did you notice, it's already over a year that I uploaded the prologue of this story. Crazy how time flew by! And 2020 was already crazy enough.  
> I hope all of you who celebrate it had a wonderful Christmas :) 
> 
> See ya next year!  
> Melina
> 
> PS: Try ti guess the game they're playing ;D

Chapter 13  
A Quicksilver Predicament

The night at the ICU passed rather quickly – Lucy suspected that the infusion contained something that would help them sleep. Not that this would stop the Prof in even the slightest. He was complaining at full volume as if he wasn’t even aware that he was in the hospital and might die at any given moment.

“What do you mean, I can’t leave today?! Do you know who I am? I-”

“You don’t know who you are?” the nurse interrupted him and raised an eyebrow. She’d listened to Alfendi ranting for a good ten minutes now and her thread of patience was probably just about to snap. Lucy felt sorry for her.

“Well, I didn’t know you were experiencing a loss of memory as well, Mr. Layton. I am afraid that you have to stay even longer in that case.” She smiled in a way Lucy would call sweetly with a tendency towards murderous.

Alfendi was fuming. “I know perfectly well who I am,” he answered very slowly and clearly. He lifted a hand to his forehead and groaned annoyedly. “And if you knew who I was, you would know that I have a murderer to catch because he is probably quite happily continuing his work now that I am here!”

The nurse stroked a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear. She looked anything but concerned for the murderer. She seemed to be just _really_ pissed at Alfendi. “I am afraid, Mr. Layton, that I cannot do anything, not even in that case. The tests’ results might be negative, but since you claimed to have smelled the poison, we have to keep you under observation. It is a very dangerous poison you claim to have inhaled, there is still a chance you might experience the effects. And since you know about the poison _so well_ , Mr. Layton, I’m sure you know the consequences. Good day.”

Alfendi fell back into his pillow groaning as she left. Lucy watched how he was staring at the ceiling intensely. He was probably talking to Fendi or, rather, arguing with him. Lucy decided to turn back to the game on her phone and play it for as long as she could before Alfendi would start complaining to her. _Again_.

Lucy was just guiding her little green character towards the med bay of the spaceship when Alfendi spoke up. “I cannot believe it. Why don’t they want to let us go? There is a murderer running around!”

Lucy sighed but kept concentrating on her game as she didn’t want to lose it. “Maybe because it won’t help anyone if we die?” she answered. She was normally a very patient person but slowly but surely Alfendi’s constant complaining was beginning to annoy even her.

“We won’t die, Baker,” he muttered.

“Glad you think so, Prof, but I would like to stay, just in case. It was a pretty strong poison.” She was just about to finish a task when suddenly, her little character was being murdered. She groaned and threw her phone on the blanket. The fourth time in a row now! Plus, her data volume was running low because she didn’t know the password of the WIFI here.

She turned towards Alfendi and met his eyes. He was watching her quizzically, but she could see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What?”

“What are you doing there, Baker? Never seen you so frustrated.” He swung his legs out of bed, got up and let himself fall onto the mattress next to her to take a look at her phone.

“I’m playing this game, but I keep getting murdered,” she answered playing with her phone.

He rose the other eyebrow. “You keep getting murdered? Don’t you have enough murder at work already?”

Lucy grinned. “Apparently not. Wanna play it too? But ya need to use your own phone, I’ve almost used up all my data volume.”

He tilted his head. “Why aren’t you connected to the WIFI?”

Lucy frowned. “Because we ain’t got the password?”

He barked. “If that is everything…” He held out his hand towards her. “Give me your phone, I know the code.”

“Uhm… what?” When she didn’t give her the phone, he got it himself.

He smirked. “Do you really think a little code is what keeps me from free WIFI, Baker? Here you go. And what kind of game is that? I want to play it too.”

“Of course, you hacked yourself into the WIFI…,” Lucy muttered under her breath but chuckled quietly as she saw the winy WIFI symbol in the top lft corner of her phone. “You sure you wanna play against me?”

“You keep getting murdered, Baker, how good can you be at that game?”

“HOW DID YOU MURDER ME AGAIN?! YOU’RE CHEATING!”

Lucy was doubling up with laugher at how annoyed Alfendi was at that game. Well, actually at how she had managed to murder him several times by now. She was sure he would throw his phone at the wall soon. Or the nurse from earlier would come in because of the noise and take it from him. Whatever would happen first. “I’m not cheating! You’re just bad at t’game, Prof.”

“I’M NOT! I WANT A REVANGE!”

“Alrighty, Prof.” Lucy quickly set up a new game that was quickly joined by others. Lucy grinned. She wasn’t an imposter this time, but she kept following Alfendi’s little red character just to make him go crazy.

When she cast him a glance, he was staring at his phone so intensely Lucy thought he might set it on fire at any moment. “I know what you’re doing, Baker,” he muttered into the screen. “But not this time.”

Lucy grinned and turned back to her own screen. “Whatever ya say, Prof.”

“…”

“…”

“I WAS MURDERED AGAIN! HOW?! WHAT DID YOU DO, BAKER?!”

Lucy couldn’t contain herself anymore, she burst out laughing so hard that she almost fell off the bed. “I ain’t done anything!”

“YOU DID! YOU WERE FOLLOWING ME AROUND!” In his rage at being murderer, he threw his pillow at Lucy which hit her with an astounding force. Lucy pulled it away from her face and laughed even more before she threw the pillow back at him.

And this was how Hilda found them a few minutes later, Alfendi shouting and raging, Lucy laughing and grinning at her screen whenever Alfendi wasn’t throwing a pillow at her or she one at him.

Hilda blinked at not even being noticed in the slightest. She knew now what the nice nurse just outside had meant when she had said that Hilda must probably be the mom looking for her grown up children. “What, in heaven’s sake, is GOING ON HERE?!”

“Oi! Hi Hilda!” Lucy greeted her happily once she had thrown the pillow back at Alfendi.

“LUCY KEEPS MURDERING ME!”

“I AIN’T! HILDA!”

“Hilda, she’s cheating!”

“I ain’t! I wouldn’t do that!”

“You would!”

“WHAT?” Hilda didn’t understand the world anymore. She had come here in such a rush when Lucy had called her this morning and asked her to bring some clothes for her and Alfendi, since Alfendi had refused to call his father, because they were being kept in hospital due to poisoning. Had the poison made them turn mad? Well, Lucy at least. For Al, it seemed normal behaviour. Kind of.

“We’re playing a game,” Lucy explained while dodging another flying pillow from Alfendi’s direction. “And the Prof keeps claiming that I cheat. Which I don’t. He’s just bad at the game.”

“I’m not! You’re clearly cheating. You’re a gamer, I know you can cheat.” He leaned back into his pillow and crossed his arms like he was five and annoyed that he didn’t get another piece of chocolate.

“I never said I wasn’t capable of cheating.” She gave him a wink.

“There! See, Hilda? She IS cheating!” He was gesturing wildly at Lucy, but Hilda just rolled her eyes.

“You two really are like children,” she sighed and sat down at the edge of Lucy’s bed. She put the bag, which she had been holding, onto her lap and opened it. “I brought the clothes you asked for, Lucy,” she said into the bag before she pulled out a blue and red striped sweater and threw it at Alfendi. “And I won’t ask why you had one of Al’s sweaters in your flat, I really won’t.”

“Oh, that.” She shrugged it off and laughed. “Well, you see, the Commissioner threw us out the Mystery Room a few days ago when we were staying really long and we went to t’ Prof’s flat t’ have some tea and continue discussing and because we ain’t got any good sleep in a while I got real cold. There was also this huuuuge drop in temperature, ya remember? So it was extra cold, and the Prof was real nice and gave me one of his sweaters I ain’t given it back yet. Sorry Prof. I mean, now it’s good I had it, right?” She gave Alfendi a smile while he was glaring at Hilda but not saying a word.

Hilda sighed. “You’re making this really hard, Lucy… anyway. The Yard found out who the victims were.”

“Oh?”

Hilda folded her hands in her lap, her eyes directed at Alfendi somewhat expectantly. “The Makepeace Family. As in Keelan Makepeace. I’m sure you remember him.”

Alfendi nodded. “Sure. Suspected of being the Jigsaw Puzzle Killer. And now he’s dead. I always thought it was him.” He smiled a little but didn’t seem overly joyful or happy as one would have expected.

Lucy turned to Hilda. “And who was the other one?”

“Diane Makepeace, his daughter…,” Hilda answered slowly without taking her eyes from Alfendi. She frowned. “That’s it? You’re not happy about it?”

Alfendi shrugged. “He is dead already, and I know how. The fun’s over.”

Hilda got up swiftly, pointedly ignoring that Lucy had been about to ask her something else. “If you _know_ , then how could it happen that you two end up here? Shouldn’t _you_ know better?”

Alfendi rolled his eyes and stroke a strand of red hair behind his ear at the sudden change of topic. “If you came to blame me, there is the door. Thanks for the sweater though. You didn’t happen to bring some fresh trousers and a cup of decent coffee, too?”

Hilda rose an eyebrow at the sarcastic reply. She wouldn’t go anywhere anytime soon.

“Besides, why do you blame me? It could have been Lucy’s fault just as well!”

“OI!”

“No.” Hilda shook her head, pointedly ignoring the tiny moment Alfendi’s hair had become purple and he had looked to Lucy as if to apologize before Al had taken over again. “You’re the boss, Al. You’ve been in this job for _years_ , you know the ins and outs. Lucy is your assistant and hasn’t even been here for a year. You have to take care of her!”

“Uhm, Hilda,” Lucy carefully interrupted the fuming woman. “I can look real good after ma’self, ya know?”

Hilda gave her a smile. “I know, Lucy. But this isn’t about your capability, this is about Alfendi’s responsibilities. What kind of poison was it anyway?” The tone of her voice had changed; lurking, waiting. For what, Lucy didn’t know.

“Dimethylmercury I suspect. The air was heavy with the sweet scent,” he answered as he leaned back comfortably in his pillow. “I was careful, okay? Lucy said she didn’t smell it and she isn’t showing any signs of being poisoned. I wouldn’t have let her get too close anyway, Hilda. As you said, I’ve had this job for a _years_ , _I know the ins and outs_.” He grinned at her, it being absolutely clear that the conversation was over for him. But Hilda seemed far from being done.

“Oh? Is that so?” She stepped closer to his side and folded her arms. “You _smelled_ it?”

“No, I _heard_ it,” he retorted sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “It basically screamed at me _‘Hey, I’m Dimethylmercury! I smell sweet!’_ ”

Hilda rose an eyebrow. “What a lucky coincidence then that this information reached the Yard last night and I could do some research together with Florence after she was thrown out of the mortuary because the poison is _apparently_ very _deadly_ ,” she said almost too happily. She was smiling sweetly, but it made a shiver run down Lucy’s spine and Alfendi sit up a bit straighter she noticed. She’d been lurking to uncover something Alfendi knew but wasn’t telling. The alarm bells started ringing in Lucy’s head and made her sit up straighter. What was going on?

“Florence is chronically sick,” Alfendi murmured. “It only makes sense to keep her away from dangerous substances.”

Lucy was confused. She had seen Fendi being quiet and unsure but never Al.

Hilda inspected her nails. “Alfendi, did you know,” she began as if she hadn’t heard him at all, as if they were just chatting about the weather, “that Dimethylmercury is an extremely effective neurotoxin that can cross the blood-cerebral barrier without any resistances within moments and cause great damage? Or that it is highly hazardous when breathed in? I read that a woman died of Dimethylmercury after one single drop touched her glove. It took her a few months to die but if you were exposed to it and even smelled it, I can calculate how long it would take you to die or at least show signs of the poisoning…” She lifted her eyes to look at him. “Did you know that there is no antidote?”

It was so silent that Lucy could hear her own heartbeat. She felt like sweat must be covering her skin, that she should panic and be afraid that she might die; she didn’t possess a lot of knowledge about poisons, so she hadn’t known any of that besides that it must be very dangerous. But once again, Lucy felt the calmness enveloping her, softening the edges. She would call it elusive, but she simply felt safe within the bubble.

She heard how Alfendi cleared his throat. “Well, then I must have been wrong as I am apparently still sitting here without any symptoms.” He countered her gaze with his own, none of them backing down. The imagine blurred before Lucy’s eyes. 

Hilda shook her head. “No. I don’t believe you.”

“Why?” Lucy could hear the smirk in Al’s voice. “Because you just remembered that Alfendi Layton can never be wrong? How nice of you! Though I really hope I am because it would be a shame if Lucy died.”

Hilda was still shaking her head. “No. I do believe that Alfendi Layton can be wrong, however high he might think of himself. But the Alfendi Layton I know would never admit to it.”

It was silent. Then, Alfendi laughed darkly. “Well, dear Hilda, then you might not know me as well as you seem to think.”

Lucy could hear Hilda growl. How could the sound come from so far away while she was standing just a metre away? Lucy had no idea.

“Don’t take me for an idiot! What game are you playing, Alfendi?!”

“I’m merely playing the game the murderer wants me to play.”

“You-”

The door was opened and interrupted the fight or whatever it was that Alfendi and Hilda were having. The nurse from earlier stood in the room and she looked anything but happy. “Excuse me, could you possibly be a bit quieter? This is an Intensity Care Unit! The visiting hours are over anyway, Ms…?”

“Interpol Inspector Pertinax. I still have a few questions for Inspector Layton here,” she retorted. The nurse cast a look at the badge Hilda was flashing her but seemed only sparsely impressed.

“I’m sorry, Ms Pertinax, but the patients need rest. You can come again tomorrow to question Mr Layton. Ms Baker will be discharged as soon as the second result of the text will be negative. Which should be around the afternoon.” She gave Lucy a smile.

“And what about me?” Alfendi wanted to know. “I need to leave as soon as possible; I have a murderer to catch!”

“Well, Mr Layton,” the nurse sighed. “I’m afraid for now you have to stay as we have already been discussing earlier this day. I’m sure your assistant can handle it. Ms Pertinax?”

Hilda looked so unhappy that one could grasp it. “Fine,” she hissed eventually. “Alfendi, Lucy, I hope to see you soon. Healthy and alive.”

“Ta Hilda. And thanks for the clothes.” Lucy gave her a smile in an attempt to smooth over some of the edges but it was of little use. Hilda returned it thinly before she left, clearly more annoyed than anything else. The nurse gave them another smile as she shut the door.

Alfendi leaned back into his pillow, his red hair creating a hard contrast that made it look like the white bedsheets were bloodstained. He rubbed his forehead but otherwise remained still.

“I’m sure we’ll get out soon.”

“But maybe not soon enough,” he muttered and fell silent again. Lucy wanted to ask so many things about what Hilda had said, about the possible poisoning, how he had known it. But she knew he wouldn’t say another word, so she kept sitting right here and there.


End file.
